Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs
by WincestSounds
Summary: Sequel to Tips of Brushes, Blades of Arrows. Peeta's Pov. The threat of Snow looms over past Tributes. Peeta has to make a choice as he and Katniss are once again thrust into the Hunger Games. There's unrest settling in the Districts.
1. Chapter 1: Foolish

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note:**

Alright everyone! Looksie, looksie! Omg, I'm so excited.

So, first of all, this chapter is long, longer then my usual. I wanted to give you lot something more to read, that'll satiate you all, since it's been a while. XP Two weeks since the end of Tip/Blades.

I can't wait to get down into this one. This will be far more mature then yer all prolly expecting. This chapter almost felt like writing a porn or something. But it had to be done.

The next chapter will prolly be similar. Remember, these two are raging teens, it's gonna happen.

So I haven't decided on the Opt A/Opt B yet.

I was thinking one with Katniss RLY preggers, that would be Opt B, and one with her not (more by the book, kinda); that would be Opt A. Opt A seems to be the book norm, more or less. So yeah, yay or nay? Yer choice.

Also, I need to name Peeta's prep team, big time. I haven't decided on names or personalities, but I think they will show up in chapter 3. So if you lot have suggestions, all are welcome.

Okay, I'll let you lot go with that, I don't think I've forgotten anything. ^^;

Thank you all so much fer the continuing support and reading of my fanfic! Please, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl

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**Side Notes:**

'Cause I know, that you know,  
You're all over me now.  
And it's clear, it will show,  
Your curtains will close.  
But if your heart is cold, my sheets are warm.  
I will shelter you through the storm.  
I will shelter you all through the storm.

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**Chapter 1 - Persistent, Foolish, and Relentless

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**

Katniss Everdeen.

That's who this entire story started with, and that's who it will end with.

She's the girl that was from the Seam, in the beginning, now she's most known as 'the girl that was on fire'. The girl that won the Hunger Games. The girl from the Victor's Village.

She's the girl that my mother **still **can't stand, the girl that my father adores.

She use to sell squirrels to my dad. Now she simply delivers them.

She is the girl that I've always been in love with. The girl that loves me.

That's Katniss Everdeen.

* * *

I watch her run to the stand to save Prim, slowly pushing through the people around, her bangs flying back with the wind, her arms struggling through a crowd that was pre-parting for her anyways. I watch her as she knowingly puts her life on the line for her only, young, beloved sister. Her eyes glassing over with tears, Prim fights to stop Katniss's selfless act, she is the small angel, with her tears and choking voice, that mirrors what is happening to me on the inside. Gale Hawthorne pulls the crying little blond away and allows Katniss to take up the stage.

And I am helpless to stop her myself. Helpless because this was a time that Katniss didn't know who I was. It wasn't my right, to go to her, to call her back down, to beg and plead with her as Prim had.

If that was now though, I would've done so. I would've willingly put my life on the line in front of everyone in Panem. Including the Capitol, including Snow and his soldiers.

But as it was, I only watched in horror as they condemned the girl I loved to death, and then called my name as well.

The fear in my stomach bubbled, I remember, and I couldn't even grasp back onto reality. Whether I couldn't, or didn't want to, I'll never know.

In the arena, nearly a week after that, I fought for her life, not caring about my own. And as a reward, Katniss and I lived through it all, survived the deaths surrounding us, the injuries caused to us and causing, my lost leg, and even through Cato.

But Snow loomed over still, glaring, his dark eyes haunting as he placed the tiara on Katniss's head. And I saw him as Cato, clawing down on Katniss, wanting to hurt her. And inevitably wanting to kill her.

Snow would have to die if Katniss was ever going to be free again.

Alright, I accept your terms, Game Maker. Just put me in the arena, and I'll fight for you again. Whatever landscape you choose is the landscape that I'll spread Snow's blood over like jam on toast.

* * *

I'm holding the back of the arrow so close to my cheek that it caresses the soft, invisible hairs over my skin. It could be ticklish if the feather of it wasn't so completely stiff. I feel my tongue wanting to glue itself to the floor of my mouth, the soft serenity of the forest around calms me.

I watch the sparse snow fall, slowly and patiently through the leaves. And a piece of it has to have landed on my cheek as I feel the wet of it become a bead of water when it reaches the heat of my skin. It drips down quickly, slides over my throat, and dies in the collar of my shirt.

The silence around is sharp and I enjoy the feel of the taught string pulled under my hand. I thumb the bladed tip of the arrow before my fingers as I wait patiently.

Katniss is as still as a statue by my side, she sits unnoticed by everything around, but I enjoy knowing that she's there. I can hardly hear her breathing, but she takes a deep one to let me know, it's the only way she can communicate at this point. Because, if she makes even the smallest move, she'll startle our pray. My pray.

I let the breath out silently, feel my arms numb with it, my chest tighten up despite that it should've loosened instead. And then I release the arrow with it.

The rabbit is struck before I can even blink and is thrown through the wet leaves of the forest floor as the blade of the arrow hits it directly in it's side. The small body is slung like a rag doll, lifeless, incapable of struggle or disagreement against my attack. I'm glad that it's died quickly, and I hear Katniss's smile, though it has no sound, just before she lets out a soft laugh.

We drop from the tree to collect my first kill. The pride that fills me is almost overwhelming and Katniss kneels to take care of the small creature before she puts it into her hunting bag.

When she turns to me, her grin is wide and heartfelt.

She lets out a soft, proud chuckle as she wraps her arms around my waist in a hug, "You did perfect–"

"Not in the eye," I start to argue as I hug back.

"Shush," she says as she pulls away and rubs her nose against mine for warmth, "You did great, Peeta."

"Thank you," I take her hand in mine as we start off finally, "After so much practice, I'm glad I actually have gotten to this point."

We tuck the bows and arrows away in the hollow log that she's been keeping them in for years, and then we start the trek back to her old home. It's still early in the morning for us, but we take from the forest anyways, the traps have all been reset, and we've managed to pull in more food then usual.

She stares at me with a smoldering look, and I know what she intends it to be taken as. Allowance. Or maybe... Request?

* * *

As we fold together on the bed in her old room, I take her up into my arms protectively, kiss the flesh of her neck, tangle my legs with her's.

She moans against me as we warm together. My hands slide patiently over her cold thighs, rubbing to warm them through her pants. I untie the hunting boots, strip them from her feet. Her back arches against the bed as I pull the damp pants from her legs finally, run my fingers through the soft hair of them and worship her for a moment.

The front of my teeth nip at the flesh of her calves, sucking to redden the skin. I pull the wet socks from her feet and kiss the soles of them, massage warmth into them with my large palms, I kiss her ankle and do the same to the other leg.

Her face is heated, red, and she watches me closely as I take my time, working up her legs like a practiced masseuse.

The cold metal zipper of my jacket brushes her leg as I lean over her to kiss her thighs and she shivers, "Peeta," she protests.

I sit up, shift out of my jacket as it sticks to my sweater, and then bend my body over her's again. I kiss her lips this time, raise her shirt, pull up her bra and knead at her firm breasts with my mouth and palms. Teeth graze over the sensitivity of her nipples, tongue roughly dragging over, saliva building in my mouth.

Her breathing is labored and hitches at times, she's sweating already with her cheeks flushed red, and her hand tangles up in my hair, "Peeta," she manages out again. My name has never sounded so beautiful before.

I leave the flesh wet to be hardened even more with the cold of the air around us. My palm runs over her smooth tummy, rests against her gut as she stares up at me. Her bangs stick to her face, long and messy, her braid over her shoulder sits between her left breast and arm. She looks completely undone.

I pull away for a moment, manage my pants halfway down to my knees, just enough to give her the feel of the fabric of my boxers against her flesh. Her gray eyes stare up at me through the lust that fogs them, she begs me with them.

I've only been so bold once before, on the train home from the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, and we normally don't get too physical. She knows what kind of man I am. But I want this, just a little bit for now, I think I've deserved it. I've been good enough.

"Peeta," she's growing impatient as her hands start to move towards my crotch.

I grab up her wrists and plant them so that they are with her palms pressed to my chest, and then I lower my waist, intentionally pressing the tip of my erection against her panties.

She lets out a shaky breath. Her acceptance warms me inside and her desire for me makes it so that I have to go farther. It's obvious that she's been wanting more for a long time, I intend to give her more, but I refuse to go too far. I refuse almost on a daily basis.

We share a look as I lower my body, dragging the tip of my need through the crease in her underwear, she spreads her legs acceptingly and I thrust my hips against her just a bit. A moan escapes her mouth and I let out a shuddering breath to her neck. I want her.

I want so much more. I want to pull away the rest of our clothes, I want to feel her around me, I want her legs to squeeze against my sides, want to feel her dull nails on my back, her sweat to mix with mine. I fight the want, however, with my respect for her.

"More, please." But she's demanding.

I hide my smile and whisper into her ear, "Marry me." It's not a question, it's a demand.

She breathes back, "Peeta."

"I know," I tell her, "I know, we're young, and it's so much more complicated then that. But dammit, Katniss. Marry me anyways."

"Why?" she laughs weakly as I nip her ear.

I rub my throbbing erection into her underwear again, possibly pressing into her just a bit and she lets out a soft moan of desperate need.

"You get what you want," I tell her, "And I get what I want."

"Why do you have to be such a gentleman?"

I pull away to look into her eyes, "A gentle man is what I'll always be," I kiss her dry lips, lick over them to moisten and then kiss her again, her body swells to meet mine and I grope at her left breast with my right hand.

"Say yes, Katniss," I whisper to her, "Say yes, and when we're married, I will make love to you as often as you want."

She shudders against me, but it could be from the cold, and her eyes are closed.

She won't answer me, probably never, but then I will never stop asking. I'm persistent, and probably foolish enough, to chase after her relentlessly. There's no one as perfect, no woman as shaped and beautiful, no mind as curious to me as she is.

I bend down to gorge myself on her chest again, taste the salt of it, her knees shaking on either side of me and I thumb her underwear with my free hand, push the cloth aside to snake my fingers in. I move them down, feel the hair of her feather against my hand, and press a finger firmly against the sanative skin.

It's warm, she's warm, and wet; severely wet. So wet that I'd have thought I'd stuck my hand into a cup of warm pudding.

Katniss is falling apart below me, this is a feeling that neither of us have had before. I barely brush the tip of my finger against her and it's like lightening. She's arching off the bed, trying to push down against me, opening her mouth in shock.

"Marry me, Katniss," I demand again as she lets out a soft whine, I move down her body and suck softly against her rib cage. And even though I'm eager to press more, I hold my hand back patiently and just barely brush the tips of my fingers over the soft flesh between her legs, over and over. I play the movement in my head as I watch her for what excites her most.

Her eyes open and she looks up at me, "Peeta," she breathes as her eyes water.

I run the four fingers down her more, covering more flesh, touching her as a fine artist would shade charcoal pieces of work, blending the colors together with a practiced hand, making them melt together. And she melts.

"Peeta."

I need more space to work with. And I sit up, with one swift yank of my arm the underwear is down her shaking thighs and I've spread her legs, moving my entire body down, I use both hands instead of one.

She's pressing down against them now that I'm not holding her in place, I smile wide at this but ignore her wants because her moans are becoming louder despite it, she's gripping tight against the sheets as I keep my hands gentle, distant still, "Yes, please."

I want, more then anything else, to do more, to taste her, or to be inside of her, to go further. I want it so badly, but I fight the urge back and keep the tips of my fingers as the only things that brush the delicate flesh.

"Peeta," Katniss moans below me, "Peeta," she repeats again. She doesn't know what else to say.

My fingers run over a particularly sensitive area and she gasps, I repeat the motion two more times and she sobs. Fingers soaked, I slow down my arm, not wanting to push too far. She protests, but she understands, and pulls me up into a deep kiss.

I lay my head to her chest, listening to her breathe, listening as her soft heartbeat slows down until it's back to normal. She runs her fingers through my wet hair.

"I love you, Peeta."

I smile wide and sit up to look into her eyes, "I love you."

Every time I've asked her to marry me, and every time she's ignored it. This isn't the first time we've been physical, yes it's the farthest by a lot, but not the first time we've done things. Most of the time, it involves being shirtless, without pants, but I've never actually touched her there with my hands. Most of the time it's kissing, and moving against one another.

I won't mind doing this though.

It's disappointing that she won't say yes though, that she continues to drag it out. She knows I'll give her anything and everything, more or less. But it doesn't completely bother me.

I know why she won't say yes. It's not the complication of being young, or her mother, those wouldn't stop her. It's children.

Katniss is afraid of having children. I'm sure that if we keep going this way, and I keep her heart in sight, she'll give in eventually. But even if she doesn't, a children-less Peeta is a lot happier then a Katniss-less one.

She goes to the bathroom and I shift around my boxers and pants, calm myself down before she gets back.

Katniss walks back in finally and pulls me into a soft hug. I wash up slightly, wash my hands and face, try hardest not to wet my hair anymore then it is. It's cold enough outside without a wet head. Then I join her in the room as she pulls out supplies from our second bag.

We change into new clothes, out of our more worn, 'hunting theme' ones, into our more pricy and uncomfortable collection. I pull on my new, thick, wool jacket and kiss Katniss on the nose.

There's a meow from behind us and we turn to see Prim's cat as he walks into the bedroom, his cute mushed face, his bushy body, and he's a little wet as well as he saunters over the wooden flooring. I reach down to him, scratch the sides of his face and nuzzle his nose as well, he purrs in satisfaction. Lets me know that I'm doing him right.

"Is Buttercup jealous?" I ask him. He purrs louder then at the sound of his name and nuzzles me back.

I kiss his forehead a few times and Katniss leans over to him, "Ugh, he's hideous."

"Aw, don't be mean to him, Katniss," I start to argue as she stuffs him in her hunting bag, clearly not a cat person.

She turns and smiles at me though, "We should get going." Poor Buttercup is completely forgotten about.

"We should," I say and kiss her softly, run my tongue over her bottom lip and nip gently with my teeth, "Places to be, trips to bathe and dress for. I'll see you later?"

Her eyes melt over my body and she smiles, "Hopefully we can have some more time together before I have to get ready."

"Agreed."

She... Is a beast. That is seriously in heat. I almost feel sorry for the annoyed, ignored presence that throbs between my legs. Unsatisfied physically, so often, but so completely satisfied where it matters most.

"You're going to the bakery," She starts, thinking out loud as we set out from her old home, "Maybe when you get back from that. I should be done with Hazelle and the Hob, I'll meet you back at my house?"

"Alright," I kiss her softly, "I'll see you then," and we split ways.

I walk silently through the snow until I reach town, then into the busy bakery. My father is behind the cash register and he smiles wide when he sees me.

I bring the package in my arms into the back and put it in the refrigerator, not shot by me, I was honestly a little hesitant with anything smaller then a rabbit. I pull on an apron and turn to the orders on the wall.

The back is empty, so I frost all of the baked cookies and cakes alone; listen to my mom as she complains from up stairs. And when she comes down finally to glare at me, I take the offering and raise my brows, "Have I done something?" I'm not as subtle as I use to be. Her attitude doesn't settle with me anymore.

She huffs and walks by. She even gives me 'that' look before she enters the front of the store. Another normal day in the bakery.

My relationship with my mother has always been an unsteady one, all of my life, even before I snook the bread to Katniss so long ago. And it's only been more unsteady since I came back from the Capitol. When I think back on the chaos from then, I always get a queasy stirring in my gut.

The arguments between Katniss and her mother, about our relationship, were almost overwhelming. The accusing points from my brothers about 'that girl from the Seam', my mother's relentless bitching, "I was embarrassed." It was complete, uncontrolled chaos.

And Gale Hawthorne.

He still hasn't said a thing to me.

Of course he's said things to Katniss, of which she doesn't speak much about, but I know enough to get the idea that he's not happy with the developments.

I can't imagine how it was for him to see me and Katniss on the screens, to hear people talking about us, to have people asking questions. And now he was more-or-less branded as her cousin. That had to hurt.

But I wasn't concerned about another man then, and I'm not now. I won't regret my relationship with Katniss, ever.

If they all knew how serious her and I really were... It would be worse.

We may have not had sex yet, but it was definitely a thing on our minds, and not completely far from our actions already. Katniss's mother would be furious enough for Gale and my mother on her own from what she's told me already.

I finish the cookies, pile some on a plate for Katniss, and pull off my apron. I hang it up and pull my fingers back into the warmth of my gloves.

My father is at the kitchen door and he walks to me silently. The man of few words, but he doesn't need to say anything to me to get his point across. His hand rests on my shoulder suddenly and he quickly kisses my forehead, over my hair. It's a gesture that tells me that he's not angry like mom is. That I couldn't do a thing to anger him. That he's proud of me.

I hug him tight and pull back, "I won't see you again before the trip, I hope you enjoy the squirrel."

He smiles wide, "I will," he winks. And I leave the store for Katniss's home in the Victor's Village.

The snow is more heavy now and I stuff the plate in my jacket to keep the cookies warm.

I make it to Katniss's house in record time and knock, her mothes answers and I step in, "I come bearing gifts."

She smiles weakly and takes the plate from my hands with a quiet 'thank you'.

"Where's Katniss?" I look around and her mother puts a hand on my shoulder, "Come on, Mrs. Everdeen. Where's Katniss?" I'm not particularly ready for one of her speeches about my 'feelings for her daughter', which is what she's been prone to do any time that her and I are left in a room alone, so I move to walk in more but she holds me back again.

"President Snow is speaking with her."

I stop and look down to her, my stomach sinks and I frown, struggle to understand, struggle not to run through the house to find them, to protect; most likely with a large, sharp weapon in hand. "Alright," I manage out and my voice sounds petrified, like my brain is, "I'll be at my house. Tell Katniss that I came by."

"I will," she promises, sincerely.

I know she won't.

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**Ending Notes:**

*Skips, hops, flees* Reviews, please?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	2. Chapter 2: Not Desperate

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note:**

Sorry fer the late update!

I kind of have a guest over this week, and it's been a while since I've seen her, best friend from like... School. Lol, almost a seventeen year old friendship now. So you can probably sympathize as to why I was so busy yesterday to post, but I was awesome and sneaked it in this morning. She leaves on Thursday, so it's no biggie.

So yeah, umm, I'm a little surprised as to how many people have viewed this story as compared to how many people have reviewed. Has reviewing really become that hard? O.o I don't mean to bitch or anything, XP, but SERIOUSLY.

None of you see the stats, but four HUNDRED people read Chapter 1. I accept anonymous reviews too, so wow. I'm just saying. ^^; It's kinda impressive. I AM tho glad that I got as many reviews as I did, and they are all so very loved. And yeah, it's HAWTHORNE, I went back and fixed that, thank you LittleAsian. O.o

By the way, chapter 1 on it's own owned almost the entirety of Tips/Blades._ /whew_** In a way, of course. **Tips/Blades was like 23 chapters, well updates? And all together had 2,249 views? And Chapter one of this is already at 400. So yeah, that's promising.

And my boyfriend won't stop messaging me and letting me get out this friggin chapter, I'm trying to write this note and he keeps friggin IM'ing me, stupid glowing msn button.

I'll leave this at that, I gtg straighten my hair and get ready fer werk!

Love you all, thank you lot fer the reviews, the beautiful traffic that only I can see, tho no one else can it comferts me a lot to know that so many are reading! Please continue on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl

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**Side Notes:**

I am not alone  
I live with the memories, regret is my home  
This is my true freedom  
Express all the feelings of what I've become  
I watch the rising sun

I hope I find some peace today  
It seems I've gone away  
It seems I've lost myself  
It seems I've really lost my way  
It seems I've lost myself  
It seems I've  
Shed my skin

Are you ready for me  
Or purge my love  
Are you ready for me?  
A bitter sinking feeling

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**Chapter 2 - Not Desperate  


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**

I leave Katniss's house reluctantly and go to my own, walking in and leaving the door unlocked in case she comes by.

The first thing I do is kick off my soggy shoes and leave them at the door, hang up my coat and put my pack down beside my shoes. The room is cold, and I'm shivering, so I start up the stove and turn the heat on.

Hardly enough time passes and I've thrown a few loaves of healthy grain bread into the oven to bake. I pull up a seat at the counter and drag my notebook to me from where I'd left it yesterday.

It's unusual to go from drawing on crowded pieces of copy paper to have canvases and sketch books. A luxury I'd never imagined.

I'm worried about Katniss though, and I can't take my mind off of what Snow could possibly be saying to her. I remember the hating look in his eyes. It must be about that, surely it is, there's nothing else.

I draw her nose this time, our noses together in the snow, use the soft red coloring pencil to shade it because of the cold air around us.

As I'm sketching in silence and comfort nearly ten minutes have passed and our noses now are attached to mouths, chins, jaw lines, ears, and I'm working on Katniss's eye when there's a frantic knock on the door that startles me.

I look up to it immediately, "Come in."

The door opens, wind blowing snow into the house and Katniss walks in, she's not even wearing a jacket for warmth and I run to her quickly, grab mine up from the hanger and cover her shoulders, "Jesus, Katniss."

Her cheeks are wet with tears though and she sobs into my chest as I close the door behind her. She doesn't thank me or comment on the lack of wear, just stays like that.

I let her cry, smooth my hand over her back, and squeeze her close to me. _Stay calm, Peeta, don't go jumping to conclusions_. She's silent and sniffling for not nearly as long as it would probably take a normal girl and I wait, watching her close as she calms down.

Finally, she pulls away and she looks at her hands which rest against my chest, gripping into my shirt like it was a lifeline.

"Do you remember," she starts softly, "The first time I sneaked over here?"

I smiled wide at her, tuck her loose bangs behind her ear and kiss her, "Of course I do," I say as I pull away, "how can I forget?"

Since we'd gotten back to District 12, Katniss's mother had made it a well known thing to everyone in town and all over Panem that Katniss and I weren't allowed to spend nights together. She was sure that I had been... Less then a Gentleman, to Katniss.

Granted, I _had _over-stepped my bounds just a bit, but Katniss still remained a virgin. And who would argue that she would be still, had she been with anyone else?

Honestly, I had done well, considering all sides. But Katniss's mother didn't think that she was old enough for a boyfriend just yet. I was willing enough to follow her mother's wishes, naturally, I didn't need to overstep family boundaries any time soon. But the pull to be with her was stronger then I'd anticipated. And this house got increasingly lonely each day.

My family still lived at the Bakery and the house I have to myself is quiet. It was overwhelming at first, sometimes I just stared around it, or locked all of the doors behind me where ever I went in it, always made sure the lights were off.

Katniss had lasted a good while without my comfort in the nights. But there was one night that started the rest; of her sneaking over every night to sleep with me. Clearly I could behave, but she couldn't.

I had just fallen into REM when she'd tapped on the window. I hadn't stirred once and she, being ever patient, forced it open and climbed in anyways.

When I'd finally woken up it wasn't from her soft foot steps over the floor, or even from her climbing onto the bed. It was from her lips pressing against mine as she kissed me. I've, to this day, never had a more needy Katniss then I did that night.

The want for me that she displayed, the complete abandoning of control, had been more then numbing to me. It was the closest that we've came to sex, yet.

Her bare body against mine. Flesh to flesh had been something I'd been dreaming of for a good while, and it was her, not me, that had initiated it.

She didn't even think of what she was doing and she'd thrown me so far off track that I hadn't realized it wasn't a dream.

Her untrained hands, so much smaller and softer then my own, pressing my erection against her folds had flipped my brain. And it was only then that the red alarms had finally went off. Dreams are more different then that. I could smell the sex, the sweat, and the painful pressure of my fake leg was increasing.

When I'd pulled away, suddenly cold and aware, sobered, and went completely limp at the thought of how close I'd been, Katniss had gotten upset.

I honestly could've laughed at how angry she'd been, that I had stopped sex, but it was too serious to have found it funny then; when it was happening. She was hurt at the thought that she couldn't even seduce me right. And I was terrified that I'd almost just raped her.

In my mind, that was how I saw it.

Something was clearly upsetting her, and she wasn't paying attention, she couldn't be held responsible for decision making. I, however, could.

And I'd been lost so much in the lust that I didn't want to care.

She had never told me what had upset her, and I let it go, as long as she didn't accuse me of trying to... Rape her.

* * *

"I was out in the woods that day," Katniss says, "And Gale... Gale kissed me."

I step back immediately and look down at her. The smile dropping from my face, my mind stopping mid-thought.

She stays silent as if she's waiting for my reaction, then looks up, her gray eyes trying to read into me, trying to see how I was going to react.

I nod then, "That doesn't really surprise me."

She lets out a sigh and looks away, "Peeta, please," she starts as her eyebrows knit together, "Don't just roll this off your shoulders like you do with everything else. I know you're the better man already. I know that you're trying to convince me that you're better then him, but please, at least be honest with me."

"I'm always honest with you, Katniss," I tell her, "I would never dare lie to you."

"Then why aren't you upset?"

I think about it for a moment and smile sadly back at her, "Because I know that you love me. I also know that I can't sway your choice. I don't want to. If you're going to choose between us, I'll lay myself out for you to see, everything, all of me. Heart on the table. And then you can decide. I shouldn't have to fight for your love. Your love for me should come willingly, unfaltering. If it doesn't... Then you should be with Gale."

"Peeta–"

"Marry me," I say softly, almost whispering, not an act of desperation, I assure you. But her bravery to finally tell me this I think is what forces me to ask again this time.

"Katniss. Please, will you marry me?"

She looks hurt at the words, stepping away from the counter, and starts towards the door. Clearly, it's not what she wants to hear right now.

I take her hands up in mine before she can get any more then a few steps from me, "Katniss, I'm not asking you to pick. I'm not forcing you to make up your mind. But I know why you keep avoiding it. I know that you are afraid of children, of them being in the games. And who wouldn't? Least of all you and me. That's my fear too. And I don't ask that much from you. I just want you. Your hand, your body, your mind, your love. I know you want me too, you're just afraid to commit because you think I'll want children. I do, I honestly do want them, but if you don't... Then I won't ask you to."

She starts to argue and I press my lips to hers. She doesn't stop to kiss back, her arms raising to wrap around my neck.

_Marry me,_ I think to myself, _you have to understand that I don't require anything else_.

When I stop to breathe and hold her close, I lay my lips by her cheek and whisper: "Just marry me, that's all I want."

She kisses me again. We're moving backwards then, hit the side of the counter, and she lets out a huff of breath against my ear.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to say 'yes', Katniss," I tell her as I kiss her neck, "I don't want you to feel forced. But you don't have to force **yourself **against me either, just because you're afraid of having kids. It _can _be just you and me."

My hands grip her lower back, pull her legs up to wrap around my waist, lips moving from her neck to her chest, "I kind of like it just you and me, right now."

She breathes softly, back arching, fingers pulling at my hair and I wet a few fingers with my saliva.

I lift my mouth from her breasts to whisper in her ear, "It will be so much better then this, when you say 'yes'."

Her eyes cloud over as she looks at me.

"Say yes."

She opens her mouth as I move my hand into her underwear, press the wet, cold fingers against her, twist them over the sensitive skin, draw shapes, tease and pinch. Her mouth opens wider and she lets out a shuddering breath.

"Marry me, Katniss."

"Yes," she breathes out raggedly. Finally.

"Say it," I demand.

She opens her eyes and looks at me, "Yes, Peeta. I'll marry you."

The grin that breaks out on my face is a force of nature so strong that I don't think I've fully understood it yet. I run my finger down her folds and press it inside finally. She lets out a sigh of relief as I thrust it forth in her pants, the jeans wear tight, her underwear as well, but it's just enough space to work with.

Katniss is falling to pieces in front of me as I work the second finger in.

We've never been so physical before now; never went so far so often. I've, personally, never ventured inside of her before today. So these two experiences have both been firsts.

But the look on her face makes me want to do it for hours, days, weeks. Maybe years even, if the muscles in my arms would hold out long enough. Her eyebrows are bent and as broken as she is right now, the center of them are raised, the end's of them down, and the thickness where they part and meet her nose are up. It's almost like she's in pain.

Her lips shut tight as she struggles to be silent, and I nibble at them, lick over them. The knuckles of her hands are going white against the counter top and her legs spread wider to give me more space to work with.

She presses down on my fingers, moves against me for friction, and then she undoes me.

"Peeta," she's breathing under her breath, the soft chant starts, "Peeta," she says again. It starts as my name over and over again.

Then it becomes something more.

"Peeta, Peet-ahpeet, ah. Peet-ah, Peeta," the name merging together with her gasps and whines.

I'm unaware, well, not unaware of the effect she has on me, the pull, or the lure. Certainly not unaware of how much she turns me on. But, I'm fairly unaware, of how excited certain parts of me have gotten at this moment.

And when her hand reaches into my unbuttoned and unzipped pants, it's a welcome surprise that shocks the both of us.

I'm not nervous, or a pre-mature person, it's not that. I've done these things with her enough, or similarly before, to know that I don't ejaculate easily. My body has withheld quite satisfactorily under larger circumstances. It can handle a lot.

But the concentration I've been paying on her face, the pleasure I get from pleasuring her, the smell of her skin, the tight heat around my fingers, the excitement of her moans, the sheer idea that I'm doing this to her, that I'm causing this pleasure, that I can make her feel like this; has built up like a monster inside of me. And Katniss, Katniss has never once touched me before.

I'm not so excited that I cum on first touch. But she strokes once and I gasp, strokes twice and I shudder against her, it's the small, squeezing, three little pumps after the two nervous strokes that pull it out of me at last.

This tool is not meant to be so over-stimulated. And it's been months since my last, before the Reaping, so it's well overdue.

The sweat building on my brow drips onto her chest as her fingers fumble and she's touching me, I feel her release first. And I'm short to follow after.

I gasp her name into her neck and then thoroughly, satisfyingly, proudly... Destroy the underwear I have on.

She's surprised, but just as satisfied, and I stare into her eyes as I do so. Her smile reaches her's, and then she leans in and kisses me.

"Katniss," I breathe.

"Peeta," she's smug and I let her down from my arm, pull my other from her pants, and button back up her jeans.

She's shaking, barely standing, and when she moves to walk she almost falls on me. Which is amusing because the only thing keeping me up is my fake leg.

"What time is it?" She asks, her heart thundering against my hand.

I look to my watch, "It hasn't been long, why?"

"My prep team," she says as she moves to the sink and washes her hands, "They're probably at my house waiting for me."

"If they were," I say smartly, "Mine would probably be–"

To interrupt me perfectly, said prep team bursts through the front door without knocking or loud chatter, followed quickly by Portia. _Nice timing_.

Yeah, that's my prep team for you.

They all stop together, the realization on their faces, and I smile weakly at them as I button up my pants, "A moment. Please?"

We kiss then and Katniss leaves, and I go upstairs to change.

Katniss's words about Gale Hawthorne kissing her don't bother me. I wasn't lying when I told her that it was 'fine'.

But they do let me know to be weary of him.

Gale wants her, and I know that deep down, a part of her still loves him. Maybe always will.

That's alright though.

But I'm going to make it my goal to squash that feeling.

Every good man has his limit, and when a man lets his love... Love another, then those feelings that he leaves unchecked have a right to grow. That leads to adultery.

It's fake, banter, rose-tinted glasses, to pretend that you're okay sitting back and watching as your love chases another. Katniss is worth more then that.

And Gale Hawthorne is not the biggest one I'll have to fight for her. I've fought Cato already, I still have to fight Snow. I almost hope that Gale will be more of a challenge...

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

See you lot next week, on TUESDAY, sorry fer the delay of this one. Please review, anonymous or not, I'd love to hear what you all have to say, thank you, see you next time! /vanish

~KaKaVegeGurl


	3. Chapter 3: Prep For Conversation

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hey, hey, my lovely readers and gorgeous reviewers!

I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day(I know most of the world doesn't). I spent mine playing Left For Dead 2 with my boyf. Yup, Valentine's Day spent killing zombies... with love. ^^ It was fun times. That and face-palming myself in Mass Effect 1, over and over and over again. And grinding little newbie Mechanics in Maple Story. What a crack day. Best Valentine's Day yet tho. (TristAn lives up in Canada fer most of the year, so we couldn't go out and do normal date things. ^^;)

Fer the record, I don't normally play MS, I'm a Warcraft addict. But me and Triss met on MS, so it's kinda a history thing, back nearly 6 years ago. My love.

ANYWHOS.

So this is a less... Sexy chapter. Don't worry, there will be more sexy, but I know we needed a gentle _break_. Btw, **survivalx7**, I fucking love you fer lifes. Yer comment made coke(a-cola) go from my mouth up into my nose,_ it hurt_. There were tears, endless fits of laughter, and my boyf thought I'd gone insane. Fer the record, to all of the rest of you, he/she'd asked if ppl ever told me that they pleasure themselves because of my story. The answer is:_ Not until now_. I've never gotten anyone comment on my sexy scenes, so whether I do them well or not is still a mystery to me. I just rly base it on how I feel, how the fic/chapter feels, how the characters are. they rly react in there the way I imagine they would. And bloom, sexy scene.

Also, I loved the name suggestions, so I snagged a healthy few (Yessenia was gorgeous and I merged the name Enya as a nickname /win. Miggy was too amusing not to use. And Prudence was interesting fer two reasons: One, Lady Gaga, and two, I was thinking of that name like... a couple weeks ago.). So thank you two both fer giving me names to use. I based personality on the name solely. Thank you much!

ALSO AGAIN, everyone seems to love and adore the idea of Opt B; pregger Katniss, so that's what yer all going to get. In Opt A, however, she will... DUN DUN DUN, not be. This will make Mockingjay VERRRRRY interesting. O.o

**Vacationing-human**, I'll respond to you here so _all _know: Fer, yer, and umm... what else do I do it with? I know there's more. It's kind of my own signature thing rly, I just do it fer fun, ya dig? As fer prey and pray, totally not on purpose, that's what we call a typo. I'll have to go back and fix it. But thanks fer asking. XP The only dumb question is the one that's not asked.

Thank you all so, so, so much fer the lovely reviews! Thank you lot all fer reading as well! Please continue to. And feedback is much adored! Continue on and read, have a nice steaming cup of yaoi. (Still not telling what yaoi is, if you don't know already, it would be interesting to explain. But I remain optimistic in silence.)

~KaKaVegeGurl**

* * *

**

**Side Notes:  
**

It's a quarter after one  
I'm all alone  
And I need you now  
Said I wouldn't call  
But I've lost all control  
And I need you now

And I don't know how  
I can do without  
I just need you now

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Prep For Conversation  


* * *

**

Miggy, a sharp dressed man that couldn't have been more then six or seven years older then me, is the first to comment about Katniss as they allow me to strip myself down.

His awkward round, blue eyebrows(which match his short messy blue hair), are high up on his head as he pulls his small bag of tools from his belt. He always wears these really big glasses close up on his nose, which I find amusing because he's such an attractive man without them, and yet he can look so completely like a geek.

His dark blue suit and tie are an added bonus though, also complimenting his hair. I never understand the Capitol and their never-ending persistence to change natural things; but I can't imagine what hair color Miggy's would be if it wasn't blue.

"So," he starts off as he hands a pair of his smaller tweezers to one of the two behind me, "You and Katniss seem to be getting closer lately."

I can't help but smile smugly, he thinks he's so subtle with his hints sometimes. But I can spy the curiosity a mile away.

Portia, who is standing back near the farthest wall with her head down as she writes on a notepad, smiles to herself as well. She's cut and dyed her hair since the last time I saw her, never an outrageous color like all of my prep team, but it's different. Now it's a soft platinum blond.

"'Close'?" Prudence exclaims louder then necessary as she sprays a can of some unknown liquid down my backside. She's out of my vision, but I can imagine without seeing her tall slim body with it's unnaturally tanned skin, her long blond hair making it look unusual, and her eerie golden eyes, "My goodness, Peeta. You could've warned us."

"You could've knocked," I counter back to her. Prudence is playful at best, and I know well enough how to handle her.

"'Knock'?" Miggy laughs his little sharp sneering laugh that anyone can tell is forced but I enjoy it none-the-less. "Why ever would we knock?"

I shrug silently, not intending to say anything back, but Yessenia answers for me, "If you wanted us to knock then you would've locked the door, I think." Or maybe that's more 'against me'; not 'for'.

Her soft brown eyes widen to me at the implication.

Yessenia is my favorite out of the prep team. She's always wearing these odd little green outfits that are overly girlish, provocative sometimes, but mostly frilly and rippled. And she's always with the same unusual brown hair that is cut close to her ears with short round bangs. The colors don't seem to fit most of the time, but she wears them proudly.

"If you would've knocked," I tell her softly, "Then, why would I need to lock the door?"

The three of them stop in surprise and stare at me. A stunting question, apparently.

Prudence, who has moved to my left side now, is holding one of my arms up as she sprays my waist. Miggy is in the middle of spreading an awkwardly orange cream onto my stomach, and Yessenia has my left hand in both of hers as she clips my nails and cleans under them. All have stopped what they're doing though just to look at me and show their complete confusion at my apparently unreachable wisdom. I've 'god-ed' them.

I stare back at them all as well, unperturbed by their silence, as they tilt their heads in thought. Their minds are melting.

"I," Miggy starts slowly, now looking unsure and confused, and his voice replicates it, "I don't really know."

Prudence shrugs finally and finishes spraying down my bare right leg. She's a stiff character on the outside already, I've learned this the hard way, but I know now that she's never really been serious. And she knows me well enough as well. So her action, or lack thereof, doesn't bother me in the slightest.

I chuckle softly, more to myself,_ it's always so easy to stun them_. Is it really that blank in the Capitol?

Yessenia, with her tight, green, strapless top and the frilled little skirt she's wearing today, begins to clip my nails again, "Are you two going to get married?" she asks. Her soft, sing-song voice is almost a whisper, and I'm surprised that I've caught it at all.

Miggy pats the cream over my thighs, "I hope so," he says, more to himself, but gives me a lifted eyebrow, "What were you two doing?"

I raise my own brow back at the man, an unusual thing for me to do, but his question is actually more intrusive then I would've expected from him, "Which question should I answer first?"

"The ladder," He says. And though he looks unconcerned, I can see the raising of his shoulders against his neck. He's a bit worried, maybe. Always the gentleman, like me, he's most likely being more considerate of Katniss now; as a woman.

"The ladder," I respond, "should probably remain clueless to you four, otherwise this room will be more full of red faces then I care to initiate. Ever." I always talk so strangely around them, almost like I'm actually thinking before I speak.

Prudence laughs heartily and pats my head like a child, to her this could be correct; I think she has to be at least thirty-five years old. Maybe just old enough to be my mom. "You shouldn't be getting so serious if she's not married to you, Peeta."

I know that she wants me to say it, I can hear it in her voice. My prep team is always so curious, and always so afraid to actually ask anything serious. They just want me to know beforehand what to say. It must be some kind of unwritten language that they all speak in the Capitol. _I wonder if Katniss's team is odd like this._

"We're getting married," I say before I can stop myself.

Portia's eyes shoot up from her notebook and she stares at me in surprise, "you are?"

"But Peeta," Miggy whispers, equally surprised, "What about Katniss's mother?"

I shrug it off, "Sometimes parents don't understand things that we do, or ignore them. I've talked to Haymitch about it though."

"And?" Portia asks, concerned.

"Well, he wasn't as surprised as you four are," I shiver as Prudence sprays the back of my neck without warning, "Haymitch has been more then supportive of it."

And he _has _been.

When I'd told Haymitch, he just grinned stupidly at me and nodded knowingly; like an old sage, always giving that same comforted look. Though it could've been the spirit he'd obviously been consuming. But I've talked to him sober and he's always been completely honest with me. He's mostly worried now about how Gale will take it. _Gale_, I haven't thought of him since earlier. He's going to be so pissed.

Miggy grins wide, "So, when is the wedding?"

"There's no real details worked out yet. It was only earlier that she said 'yes'."

"Earlier?"

"Yeah, before you all came in."

"You seduced her into saying 'yes'?" Yessenia asks, her voice higher then usual.

I immediately defend myself, "I didn't," but she's grinning, her mind obviously taking her away from the argument.

"Peeta," she says slowly with her head down again as she moves to my other hand, "You're such a romantic sometimes."

"Don't encourage him, Enya," Prudence says loudly, "You'll make him think he's done something right."

"I've done something right?"

"No," Prudence hisses, quick to respond, and tugs the back of my hair.

Miggy rolls his eyes, "Oh please, it's not wrong to seduce a woman to get what you want," he says offhandedly.

We three look down at him together.

He stops then as well and looks back up to us from my knees, "Is it not right?"

Prudence huffs and sneers back, "The only other man in the room, and he agrees with you. How does that make you feel, Peeta?"

"Wait," I turn to look at her, her big golden eyes seem harmless, but the wide grin on her face says everything that she isn't, "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"

She waves it off though, still being stubborn, and takes a thick brush up from her duffle bag. Completely silent, her only warning to me is the pregnant pause before she begins scrubbing it obnoxiously down my spine.

Yessenia finishes my hands finally and starts helping Miggy, "I think it was fine. If you seduced her, I mean. I don't see anything wrong with it either."

"Oh please," Prudence argues still, "Maybe not harmful to anyone, but seduction itself is–"

"Stop playing with the boy," Miggy laughs from the ground, "He doesn't know that you're playing."

"I'd think he would."

I do. But I don't say it.

"You play too hard sometimes," Miggy stands up and starts on my arms, rubbing them down in the cream, "Don't listen to my wife, Peeta. She doesn't know how to joke."

Prudence reaches around me and shoves him lightly in the arm, "Peeta would know."

_I do_, I'm about to say it but I keep my mouth shut again.

"Are you ready to see her all dressed up and pretty?" Yessenia asks from my right arm. Her enthusiasm doesn't persuade me to look forward to that blank make-up face with it's nonsense for texture and detail, fake little voice, and girly vague expression that holds back the genius she really is.

I shake my head, of course, feeling the bile that wants to rise in my throat, "I don't really want to see her like that."

"Like what?"

"Capitol Katniss," I explain softly, thinking about it. No more Katniss eyebrows, no more Katniss skin, or soft legs, no more pale lips.

Prudence shares a knowing look with me, "You sound bitter, Peeta," the roll of her voice on the 'er' of 'bitter' is strong.

Yessenia looks questioningly at me, "Are you?"

"I guess." I digress.

"But she looks so much prettier like that, why wouldn't you find her more attractive?" Prudence massages the spray on my back and neck in, "She looks so innocent."

Maybe _that _is why I don't like it.

Miggy stops over my chest and looks at me, "Are you happy?"

I shrug, I seem to be doing that a lot today, "I wasn't unhappy before." Vague answer for a vague question.

The three of them share a curious look, they seem to be doing that a lot as well, and I smile nervously back, "I was ready to die in the arena for her, sure, but I wasn't entirely unhappy about it. But yeah, I'm happy."

They nod together and continue their silent work on my body, cold fingers rub in the cream, rub in the lotion, and as they finish I think my flesh is ready to depart from bone and muscle with the pain.

Portia dismisses them and walks up to stand in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest, she stares at my face for a long time before she smiles warmly, "You, a husband. It doesn't surprise me. But it could be early?"

I smile back and nod, "Early, maybe. But necessary. I think I've been wanting it since I met her. Most of my friends wouldn't think twice about it, but it's all I've ever wanted."

"Most men don't think about it ever, even after they get married," She says with a gentle laugh, "And to be so fixated on it, about one girl, it's not normal."

"I'm normal?" I ask.

"By no means," Portia walks around me and ruffles the back of my hair, "I can't think of a man that has ever been so selfless, loving, kind, and dedicated as you, Peeta."

"Stop," I joke, "You're making me blush."

She shrugs when she gets around me again, "I mean it, though. Katniss is lucky."

"Not as lucky as me."

"I could argue that," Portia gives me a 'stop being modest' look before she smiles wide, showing her teeth, "Has your leg been bothering you at all?"

"Not particularly."

"Good," She moves to the stand by my bed and hands me my outfit to wear, "Put this on."

I look at the clothes and then back to her, "But you didn't do anything."

"I don't need to."

* * *

The team of cameras follow me around as I explain my artwork, it's something I'm passionate about, and I take the energy out to make sure I show it in my voice as well as my facial expressions. Effie Trinket is in and out of the house, giving advice, making sure we are running on schedule.

Finally, it's time to meet with Katniss outside, Portia and the team are set to leave shortly after me. But the cameras should have a moment with Katniss and I first.

I'm surprisingly not nervous at all. Pretty much all of Panem, the Capitol, the Districts, has seen everything that's really important to me. They know me better then my family does.

So that when I come out of the door of my house, my legs are steady and strong, my arms aren't tense, and my hands are completely sweat free. The cameras, expected but still as overwhelming as usual, stare as Katniss moves to me impatiently and pulls me into a long, slow kiss. It's more desperate then I expect and I find my arms circling around her, pulling her to me and giving her a gentle spin around in a single, simple circle.

When I finally pull away to breathe she just stares up at me longingly with those beautiful gray eyes, running her fingers through my hair. The skin of them is soft and cold and I lean into the touch.

Not my Katniss on the outside anymore, with all of the make-up, the fake porcelain look to her cheeks, but the look in her eyes is still her own yet. She probably looks stunning to anyone else, of course. But to me, she seems thoroughly dulled. Maybe, with her like this, I can keep my hormones in check and my hands to myself. Well, at least for a little while. Maybe?

Her lips still shape the same smile, her nose still crinkles the same, and I kiss it adoringly.

We are more or less rushed onto the train after that and join together with our stylists to eat dinner. Haymitch looks miserable, maybe more sober then he wants to be, but calm enough to handle the company.

Katniss sits stiffly beside me and I sneak my hand under the table, lace my fingers with her's, and squeeze reassuringly.

Dinner is slow starting, soon turning more comfortable as we talk about the Quarter Quell.

As it gets dark, I go to my room alone and proceed to strip off the tighter fitting clothes. I settle down in bed, resisting the urge to wrap my arm around the spot where Katniss should be. About the only thing I can complain about this trip is sleeping without her.

I start to drift when the bed sinks to my left and I turn to see her hovering over me. Maybe it won't be a lonely night.

"Katniss," I grin wide.

She leans down, kisses me, and climbs under the covers, "Warm," she mumbles and her cold toes brush over my real leg.

I wrap my arms around her and she sighs comfortably into my chest.

"We need to talk."

I look down at her as I run my fingers over her braided hair, "We do."

She stays silent though, her hand tracing gently down my side, down my waist and hip. I feel my body stiffen as she touches the metal leg under the covers. I can't feel her do it, but the pressure is there.

"Is this about Snow?" I ask, "Your mother told me he came by, I was worried."

Katniss nods, "He doesn't think you and I are serious."

"That's his problem," I say, chuckling.

"It's really not just 'his' problem."

I stop the smile from spreading over my face and look down at her, "What's wrong? What did he say to you?"

"He thinks I'm in love with Gale."

"Maybe you are."

"Don't joke about this, Peeta," she sighs in annoyance.

I push away from her and sit up to look into her eyes directly, "I'm not, Katniss. I don't joke about something like that."

She looks startled and then turns away from me, "But I'm marrying you."

I nod and brush my fingers over her cheek lightly, "That doesn't mean that you don't love him."

She bristles and turns back to me, "You don't believe that."

"I do," I say, "I believe it completely. Gale is close to you, I know that."

Katniss moves to talk and I put my finger to her lips.

"I don't want you to love him, Katniss," I tell her finally, "It hurts to think that you might love him just as much as you love me. Or that you loved him first. But I can't stop how you feel. All I can do is hope."

"Are you trying to make me love him?" She asks and I laugh, I know she's serious, but the thought is honestly funny.

I decide to speak my mind, "Maybe I am. Maybe I don't deserve you at all. But you deserve to be happy. And if you're happy with me, then by all means, stay with me."

She grins.

"I'd beg you," I tell her softly, "if I knew it would make any difference. But I know that you'll make up your own mind, without my help."

"And Snow?"

I shrug, "Make up his mind too."

She looks concerned again, "I'm not like you, Peeta. Your words are so perfect, you can twist everyone around. I can't make him believe me."

"What can we do?" I run my hand over her's and stare into her eyes.

"I don't know, I've been trying to think about–"

"If I proposed to you," I start, "In front of Panem, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I've already said I'd marry you."

I shake my head, "To me, but no one else knows except my prep team." Realization dawns over her but I cut in before she can say anything, "We don't have to, I can't ask that much of you, it was just an idea."

"It's fine," she says, "No, it's perfect."

I stop and can't help but smile, "You're okay with it?"

She nods gently, "It'll probably upset my mother and Prim, but I want to do this. I'm tired of having to sneak over. You and I are grown up, we're not children. And we lived through the games, we're going to be mentors this year. I think we're grown up enough to make this decision ourselves."

I can't agree more, "You forgot one more person."

She raises her unusually sharp brow, "Who?"

"Gale."

Her face pales.

Not entirely the response I want, but it's one I expect.

_Yeah, Gale._

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

See you all next week! Zoom, zoom! Review? I love you long time! *time to go pwn more Zombies*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	4. Chapter 4: The Falling Day

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So... the fandom pairing name of Peeta and Katniss is Peeniss?

This past week has been interesting to say the least.

Wednesday was my sister(Kristen)'s birthday, she turned 14.

Had conversations with my younger brother(Buddy)'s fiancé (Ulupi)about The Hunger Games and the movie of it, about actors. She had similar points of view to it like I do. (She's preggers btw XP) I'll be an aunt soon. How weird is that? I thought I was going to be the first of the kids to have a baby, oh well.

The reason I bring up the b-day most is: I'll let you readers in on something that I didn't know fer the past 22 years of my life. You ever learn something about yerself; name, place you grew up, old school or something... That you SHOULD'VE known already? That happened to me during Kristen's birthday party.

I'm sitting there talking about becoming a serious author, (most of my family has read my werk) and older bro (Will, the one that reads my fic) wants me to be 'Cammerel Angelene', which is my full first name and my middle name together. C. A. Dixon would be weird, and I hate my last name. C. Dixon? No. So, Will thinks it should be 'Cammerel Angelene'. And I've been completely un-leaning to it fer a while now.

I sit the family down and ask them and they all vote 'yes', even TristAn gave a big thumbs up when I asked.

Well my mom turns to me and says: "Yeah, Gordon's mother picked your middle name."

And I stopped everything I was doing and just stared at her.

Fer the record, Gordon(My dad, and yes he fits the name. The guy is a fucking truck.)'s 'mother' as she said it; my grandmother, was my most adored and favorite person in the world. She passed when I was 15, kinda something catastrophic to me, I avoid talking about her fer many reasons. And I didn't know this about my name?

I'm like: "What?"

"Yeah," Mom says, all nonchalant, "I couldn't find a good middle name to fit with Cammerel, and Melvia told me that when she was pregnant with Gordon, that if he was a girl then she was going to name him 'Angelene'."

How did I respond, you may ask?

I cried.

I was like, "I think, I'm... Gonna cry. Yeah, I'm really gonna cry." And I just started sobbing. Not a little tear up, but full on, painful, body-wracking sobs. I couldn't control it. In front of Will, my younger sisters, young bro Scrub and his fiancé, my mom... I cried. Cried so badly that it was like eating my soul.

Will just sorta stayed silent fer comfert, rubbed my pack, patted it. And Tay, my second youngest sister was like, "Awww, Camme. Camme, I'm sorry."

Yeah, it was sad. I cried fer like 15 mins. My grandma is still that sensitive to me.

So, 'Cammerel Angelene' it is. And I will wear it with pride.

And that's my story fer the week. XP I didn't expect to write so much about it, but there it is. Just something I wanted to share.

**Now onward with the real Author's note:**

First off, I want to thank everyone fer all of the lovely, beautiful, meaningful reviews. You are all the fuel to my fire, and we all know that fire is catching. I like the things you all say and it rly moves me to know that I have so much support backing up this fic. And I won't let it die, promise.

I just went out today and bought the Hunger Games Trilogy in hardback. ^^ I know right, about time?

Ima go ahead and leave this here, if I fergot anything I'll mention it in the next chapter. hope the editing wasn't bad because this chapter is unusually long. Thank you all, please enjoy and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Side Notes:**

I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand  
I don't tell anyone about the things that we have planned  
Won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody  
They want to push me down  
They want to see you fall down

Won't tell anybody how you turn my world around  
I won't tell anyone how your voice is my favorite sound  
Won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody  
They want to see us fall they want to see us fall

* * *

**Chapter 4 - The Falling Day  


* * *

**

The sharp knocking on the compartment door jars me awake, which I'm thankful enough to be pulled from the nightmare that's been clutching at me through the night, and I turn to a sleepy Katniss that's been startled awake as well, though not as gratefully.

She mutters something unintelligible and nuzzles down against my bare chest as if she could bury her face in my skin.

"Up, up, Katniss," Effie demands cheerfully, and she is apparently unaware that I'm in the room as well, "We've got a big, big day ahead!"

_Ugh_, I chuckle, _too cheerful; it could create cavities_. Katniss's hand, which has been laying over my right peck, actually clutches down on it before she realizes what she's done. It startles me, and I roll us over so that I'm above her now.

She's slow to waking, unlike me, and I kiss her pale lips to rouse her. She only responds slightly so I nip down her chin and suck gently on her collarbone.

"I'm awake," she mumbles out, her voice a little rough.

"Are you?" I ask as her hands move up to push her bangs from her eyes, I make a slight motion with my hips.

Her eyes snap open with surprise and she grins sleepily up at me, a wide, lazy smirk; "Peeta."

"I can't help it," I protest, even though she's definitely not complaining. Then I press my waist down on her more and the smile on her face widens at it, "You're just so completely beautiful when you wake up, I can't control myself."

"But I have to get up, Peeta," she argues weakly, "Effie will be in a state."

"She'll be even more in a state," I run my hand down her left side, over her soft underwear, and hook my fingers around her thigh, lift her leg up so that I fit more between them, "if she sees you like this."

Katniss is still half asleep though, and her hands press weakly against my chest, "You won't do that." She's laughing and squeezes me tight between her thighs.

I shrug, "Maybe not," I kiss her, then I use my freehand, my left, to cup her pale cheek and press my lips to the opposite one. Her soft hair brushes my nose and I bury my face against her neck, breathe her scent in deeply and sigh into her ear. I run my hand down the gentle hairs of her leg and she wraps them both completely around my waist.

"Let me up?" She asks, staring at me.

I roll us both over so that she's on my lap and she lets out a surprised gasp at the sudden movement, "If that's what you want."

Her hands settle down on my chest to hold herself up and she stares at me as my erection presses eagerly against her heat, her long braid hangs low over her shoulder as she kisses under her palms, and the loose hairs on the end tickle my right nipple.

When I laugh at it, Katniss rocks back and forth, backs up to look down at me.

"You're not going?" I ask.

She shrugs and climbs off of the bed, "Of course I am," but I reach forward and grab the side of her hips, yank her onto my lap and kiss the spine of her neck.

Her back arches against me and her moan sends a bolt of lust to my groin, "Katniss," I growl low in need.

"I really have to go," she giggles, her hand reaches back to run through my bangs.

I kiss her neck again, move the hair out of the way completely and start to suck over the skin before letting her up finally.

She starts to get dressed in a hurry and I roll back onto my stomach to sleep.

I'm almost off before she leans down and kisses my temple. She says something, but I don't understand it, or am too far gone to. I hardly even make out the sound of the door shutting and then I'm whisked away into a nice dreamless sleep.

* * *

When I wake the second time, it's to a sudden, slow knock and I realize that I'm still in Katniss's bed on the train. Wasn't I suppose to sneak back to my room at some point?

"Peeta," it's Portia, "We need you out here." I can hear her grinning.

I sit up groggily, "Let me shower first," I tell her, hear her confirm and then fall back onto the pillow.

The exercise with my fist is slower then usual, more sensual and patient now, and with more imagination then I've had before. I imagine her pale thighs, her sweet lips, her piercing eyes. She's saying my name, wanting me, we're back in District 12 in my house; against the counter. I'm spreading her legs wide, fingers wondering, pressing into her.

My toes curl now and I'm releasing sooner then expected, chest heaving. It makes sense though. I haven't successfully came on my own in a long time. Haven't tried much, but failed each time that I have.

When I stand in the shower, mind off in a daze, my body is stiff and tense. My shoulders ache and the muscles must be knotted. The only thing that doesn't completely hurt is my fake leg. I'm hardly aware of washing my hair, my body, and toweling dry.

The next thing I know, I'm letting Miggy coat the skin of my face in a sticky liquid before placing cloth over it to dry. Yessenia clips my hair and Prudence gives me a simple thing to wear for lunch.

I don't grow much of a beard at all, but Miggy rips the cloth away and there are hairs that not even I would've noticed.

This day is so blurry because I'm actually at the lunch table now and I swear that I've only just jerked off under the comforter of Katniss's bed. I'm there more then early to the meal, Katniss is still with the prep team and Haymitch sits across from me, he's all clean and dressed nice now but he gives me this dry 'leave me alone' look, which I don't take personally because he must be miserable as hell.

Instead, I eat patiently, sip slowly from a glass of tea, and chow down the mashed potatoes and grilled chicken on my plate as Effie talks about our schedule for the next few days.

Katniss finally comes into the room and she looks like... Well, like Haymitch is probably having the time of his life over there in the corner, flicking his fork down at his plate, glaring at the offending vegetables, and sneering every time the train shakes; which is often enough.

The attention is turned from lunch and I share a knowing look with Portia, a glance hardly, because she knows how restless we all are.

Katniss has been obviously fighting tears back, and she's in such a fit that when the train stops for a major repair, and gas, and Effie starts complaining about our time being wavered, the first thing she says is: "No one cares, Effie!"

And it's so loud and sudden and unexpected by all but me and Portia, that the entire room quiets and looks to her, astonished.

"Well," Katniss says, backpedaling, "No one does." And then she leaves the train, the alarm of it going off behind her exit.

It's an embarrassing moment for everyone but her and I sit there, staring after her as Effie finally makes a surprised gasp. I turn back to them all, my heart hammering in my chest, and now they're looking at me.

Portia raises a brow and Haymitch gives a nudge of his head, looking more sober then he probably deserves to. I can only imagine how much spirit he's downed this morning already.

I nod, clear my throat, and scoot back in my chair. I wipe my mouth with the napkin in my lap, "Excuse me, I must see to my f–" Fiancé, "... To Katniss," I give them one last look before standing up and leaving the train after her.

The air is warmer then I expected outside and I'm more then comforted by it. Katniss is only a short way away and slumps down on the ground with her back to me.

As I make my way to her, she stares down at the ground and says: "I'm not in the mood for a lecture."

"That makes two of us."

She turns back and sees me, smiles sadly, "I thought you were Haymitch."

I shrug and take a seat beside her, "Give me five years or so, I think I could pack on a few pounds."

"I was kind of rotten in there," she says, pulling her legs up to her chest.

"You were," I nod, "But we all know the stress you're under."

She shakes her head, "You're under it too. Don't you have the right to explode as well?"

"Nah," I say, picking a flower from the ground, "I'm more of the imploding kind."

Her eyes watch me closely as I caress the petals of the flower with the tips of my fingers, "That can't be healthy."

"Exploding isn't either, but our situation isn't as well; or our lives at the moment. So it should equal out eventually," I share a smile with her and take her tiny hands up in my much larger ones, they disappear in my palms, "Are you going to tell me what this is about? Or is it just the same old?"

The question has hardly left my mouth when she responds, ready to release: "You and I aren't lying."

I shake my head, "We're not," I agree.

Her entire body tenses up all of the sudden like an animal that's been backed into a corner and is getting ready to attack, something I've grown to regard as her being uncomfortable and defensive about what she's going to say or do next. "I just... It's..."

"Gale?" I ask. My stomach bunches up in waiting for her response and when it doesn't come I'm even more concerned, "It's about Gale, Katniss?" I ask louder.

Her head shakes a bit, startled by my voice, and her eyes come back up to meet mine, "What?"

"Gale?" I ask again.

"Gale?" she looks confused for a moment, then recognition covers her expression, "Oh, no, no it's not about Gale. I wasn't even thinking about him." She looks ashamed at that.

Reassured, I relax my shoulders, "Then what is it?"

She pauses, maybe unready, but says it anyways, "We'll be running from them forever. For the rest of our lives. It still feels like we're in the arena."

"To me," I say, "It feels like we've never left. Even when we were back in the Capitol, after we'd won. Snow felt like Cato number two. I still feel like I'm fighting for you now. And it's been months."

The look on her face then tells me that she's felt the same all along, "I just don't like the hold he has. He's going to be running the rest of our lives, and what if he wants us to have kids someday? They're probably going to get pulled into the games as well, and what if he still doesn't believe us then? Would he kill our families? We'll always be running, and would he–"

"Katniss." I stare at her seriously, but she keeps going.

"What if he kills **you**, Peeta?" She asks, her voice heightening into hysteria, "And now that you mention it, what if he kills Gale? He's not even right about us, and he could kill **him **for no reason. He's threatened Gale already. He threatened my family too, and you, Prim and my mother. We're not even lying and–"

I press my lips to hers to shut her up and she leans into it gratefully. Her body melts against mine in relief, her hands grip my forearms and I grab the back of her head, tilt it to the side to deepen the kiss. Her breathing against me labors and finally she calms down.

"We'll take care of it, Katniss," I say and kiss her forehead, "Snow will have to believe us. One way or another, we'll make him. We'll get through this, I promise."

She nods, calmed for the moment, and laces her fingers through mine, "Could you..." she pulls back and looks up at me, "Give me some reassurance?"

"Didn't I just–" I stop at her expression and then grin, "Oh. Well, only if you want."

Katniss reaches forward and takes the flower from my fingers, she kisses the petals gently and stands, helps me up and we walk back to the train together.

* * *

In time, we reach District 11, and the looming guards, the tall walls, the long farmlands, and overwhelming amount of security could seem stable to some. But to me and Katniss, it's nothing short of daunting; one would think we were entering a high facility jail. And the armored truck they force us in to has about the same effect.

In minutes of being in this District, I have a small microphone pinned on my chest, a bouquet of flowers in my hand and I'm standing before a large crowd of weary people. Katniss stands feeble and terrified beside me and I give her a squeeze from my hand to reassure her as I walk forward to address the people that gave us Thresh and Rue.

I have a set of queue cards resting peacefully in my pocket, but I don't bother to bring them out and read from them, I want to say it from my heart and mean it.

"I've never known the people of other Districts to be as giving and as kind as Thresh and Rue were in the Arena. In past games, the only ones that worked together were the Careers. But your two Tributes were unlike anything that I think Panem has ever seen. Kindness, consideration for other people, people they didn't even know well enough to deserve such acts. They reached the final eight, and I was skeptical more and more, afraid that I would have to try to kill one, or both of them, eventually. But they continued to show their kindness, risking their lives for Katniss, and in doing so, for me. It is a debt that neither Katniss nor I can ever repay to them. But we will do what we can." I pause and then say: "It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we'd like for each of the tributes' families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives."

The complete and utter silence from the crowd before us is deafening. Katniss stares up at me in equal surprise as I smile down at the two families below us. Thresh's family, just an older woman and a tall strong girl that has his exact eyes. Rue's family, with her many little sisters and the sad looks of her mother and father pull something deep inside of me.

I back up and Katniss moves forward to give her own speech, one of thanks, similar much to mine. And, when she finishes, a whistle sounds through the quiet crowd. An elderly man, I can see him now, and the tune he whistles is short and direct. It's Rue's little signal that I have heard countless times through the trees in the Arena.

Together then, the people of the square take their left hands up and press the first three, uncurled fingers to their lips and then out to Katniss. Pride swells in me but when I turn to see her reaction back to them the look on Katniss's face can easily be recognized as horror. The pride squelched, becomes worry and concern instead.

We turn then to leave and I rest my hand on the small of her back to support her as she walks numbly away from the podium. "Are you alright?" I ask her softly.

Her hand presses to her forehead and she mumbles out: "Just dizzy," it's the same fake 'Capitol Katniss' voice and I know she's lying. "The sun was so bright."

I rub her back and her eyes go down to the bouquet in my other hand.

"I forgot my flowers," she says dreamily.

I turn to go back, "I'll get them."

"I can," she argues, turning with me.

We make it only a few steps and the action is so quick and sudden that I'm surprised I have time to react like I do.

A man, the old one that whistled; I'm sure, is pulled onto the stage by the Peacekeepers and forced to the ground. I grab Katniss close with my arm around her shoulders and shield her eyes against my chest as the sound of the gun goes off.

The blood that splatters the wall nearby is brutal, chunks of brain tissue and bone, messy and I even feel some of it land on my cheek. His now, seemingly little and lifeless, paper body is slung backwards from the impact with twitching limbs. Fingers flexing outwards, mouth open in surprise, legs bending around awkwardly as the body hits the ground with a sickening sound that turns my stomach.

I wipe the blood away with the back of my hand as tears prick up in my eyes. People around us scream for only a moment before silencing down and I hear some anger held back as well.

"Peeta," Katniss gasps against me as we're pushed backwards, almost off balance, by the white uniforms of Peacekeepers and I shove them back in return as my defenses go up and the need to protect Katniss is stronger then my common sense.

"We're going," I say as they stare down at me, feeling the protection aspect fill me and burn like acid in my stomach; pumping adrenaline through my veins, "Back off of us and we'll go, alright? Come on, Katniss."

She hugs close to me as we turn finally and leave.

* * *

When we reach the Justice Building, Effie is up in a fit. She rushes to us with concern etched on her face. One would think she could never look another way.

"What happened?" She asks, her voice shaking in fear, "We lost the feed just after Katniss's beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard a gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!"

"Nothing happened, Effie," I try to reassure her and the lie rolls off of my tongue easily enough, "An old truck backfired."

It would've been convincing enough if two gunshots hadn't sounded just after I'd finished. The look of terror on Effie's face becomes more pronounced and Katniss shivers against me. Who else had died? Who had they killed now? One from each of the families?

Haymitch steps forward immediately and grabs my arm, "You two," he motions to Katniss and I, "Come with me."

We follow him silently out of the room and he takes us first to our room where we drop off our gifts and he removes the microphones from our shirts, stuffs them under a couch cushion before taking us off again. We go out of the room, down the hall, through a series of old doors, and the rooms get more abandoned as we go until he pulls down a trap door and we ascend the ladder one at a time.

The room we enter finally is old, cramped and full of unused things. Junk.

Haymitch looks to me first, "What happened?"

I sigh, want to shrug, don't want to say anything at all, but I look back at him anyways, "Katniss finished her speech, just like Effie said and this man whistled Rue's tune she used in the arena, then the people of the District gave us the three-finger salute from ours. We were rushed off stage and Katniss went back to get her flowers that she'd forgotten." I stop and look down, "Then we saw the man, well I saw, I covered Katniss's eyes. But they took him on stage and shot him dead."

Haymitch's concern was evident and I had to ask.

"What's going on, Haymitch? I don't understand. Why would they just kill him like that in cold blood? He didn't do anything wrong, did he?"

He frowned before taking a breath, gave me a sobering, sympathetic look and said: "Katniss already knows, Snow warned her, but he thinks that she's trying to start an uprising. There is a lot of unrest in a few other Districts, some disagreements and small revolts. Nothing completely catastrophic, but damaging enough without this."

The anger ebbs inside of me again and I turn to Katniss, "You didn't tell me about the uprisings." I say it softly and watch her.

She shakes her head nervously, "I didn't really think it was _that _bad. I was suppose to try and calm it with this trip. But now–"

"Now it's worse," I interrupt her, turn away and shove my palm out to push a box of plates and they smash on the ground. "I didn't know."

Katniss stepped to me and took my shoulders in her hands, "Peeta."

I stop and nod, force myself to calm down, "They're not going to get that food, Katniss. They'll be lucky if they survive the day."

The look on her face is morose and empty. I lean down and kiss her, but I'm still angry enough and my body is shaking with it, I take her hand and give Haymitch a look.

"Please, try to keep me updated on these things from now on," I ask in a warning tone.

He nods, "You'll be fully informed."

"I better be," I leave the room, Katniss following closely behind.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Hope to have many more long, lovely reviews. Feel free to be anonymous, all is loved, even if you pop in to say something short. The recognition matters. And more reviews means more readers. And that's always good. see you all next week!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	5. Chapter 5 OPTION A: Violent Nightmares

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option A

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Peeniss... Best pairing name since As/S.

First, I want to get this out there to everyone.

**PLEASE READ THIS. I'm not even kidding. PLEASE. Take time before you read this chapter, and read my warning.**

You all know I don't put warnings at all, and crazy shit has happened in this story already. But this is serious.

This chapter is going to be **brutal**, and from now on it's more or less going to be similar. It's going to get dark. I'm warning you now, so I don't hurt anyone. I don't warn lightly. I'm not going to hold back in this, so yer getting what you came fer.

**Read with caution**, it's going to be **bloody, graphic, brutal, and explicit**. I'm not the vague Suzanne Collins. I'm KaKaVegeGurl, Cammerel Angelene, a whole different thing.

_So be ready. I'm just getting that off my chest, now, on with the real author's note._

I have a proposition fer all of my readers out there! I want to start this now so that we have some momentum when my version of Mockingjay ends. I'd kinda like to hold onto the sum of my readers that enjoy my 'writing style' in particular and would like to see more of me.

I'm going to start a rather... 'Costless project' after I finish the ENTIRETY of this story. And I want you all to give me the strings to weave it.

How, may you ask is this going to werk? Simple, each chapter or so on, I'm going to ask some questions, simply answer in a note or review. Yer not obligated, but my readers opinions matter to me.

We're going to start off now with the first, which is obviously, **genre**.

KaKaVegeGurl writes an original story/mini series of fics on Fictionpress dot net. What would you want to read about?

**Post-Apocalyptical **- Zombies, like Dawn of the Dead, Left 4 Dead, Walking Dead, etc. With strong characters and deeper plot then yer average zombie movie.

**Future World **- Space, Star Trek, Aliens, Universe war, etc. With crews and ships and tactics.

**Past World **- Dinosaurs, or cavemen. O.o

**Fantasy World **- With ghouls, goblins, unicorns, elves, etc.

**Steampunk World **- Leviathan, I like this sort of steampunk verse idea, personally.

**Other Verse **- Not humans at all, but a new race or species, alien world life.

**Present Day Drama **- A story that approaches hard to talk about topics such as teen-pregnancy, depression, suicide, bullies, bulimia, anorexia, sexual orientation, etc.

**Murder Mystery **- Investigations, Law and Order, Sherlock Holmes.

Or a different one, if I missed any.

So just, you know, opinions are nice, ty all. Just would like to know. Also, _Only Skin and Only Born_ will be taken off of fictionpress soon, so read those if yer interested in my other original story that WILL be published, werking on that now, but Ima tear it down in like a month, you can find the link to my fictionpress on my page.

I want to thank everyone fer sticking around and enjoying the chapters, one Tuesday after another. The support, reviews, and love are much appreciated.

Two more things, Megamind, best Dreamwerks movie by far. E E E And er, just finished up Mass Effect 1, and started in on Mass Effect 2. Loving it.

Enjoy, and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Side Notes:**

So take this night  
Wrap it around me like a sheet  
I know I'm not forgiven  
But I need a place to sleep  
So take this night  
And lay me down on the street  
I know I'm not forgiven  
But I hope that I'll be given some peace

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Violent Nightmares

* * *

**

Banquets afterwards feel meaningless, worthless, useless.

_Late_, that's the first word that comes to my mind, and I'm sure Katniss feels the same way. She, like me, can't see the point in anything that we try to do now. Either way, no matter what, uprisings are going to happen.

The effect in District Eleven will follow us for the rest of our lives. And it does, it follows us through the entrance into every District afterwards, into the dinners, the speeches, the photo shoots. I can see it in the people's eyes most of the time. Blood, a want for vengeance, regret, and almost all of the time I see betrayal.

Because, when you whip a man for doing wrong, that is a lesson to teach him to not do it again, but if you beat him down, hurt him, rape him, kill his children–his wife–his brothers and sisters, then you have gone too far. You have over compensated and now you have done the wrong.

And in it's own way, that's what the Capitol has done to them; us. And they(we) want justice.

The people see it in Katniss, her acts against them, the berries, the speech about Thresh and Rue. She is their fuel. And the fire is burning; has plenty of dry grass to carry it to the forest.

So, even though it is completely worthless, pointless, and effortless, we force ourselves up from our bed each day to act out Snow's command to prove our already proven love.

I see the old man's brains as they abruptly paint the wall behind him in a dark red color. That wall will never be the same. It's the canvas on which he has painted his last, or possibly only, painting. His lifeless body lands backwards like the rabbit being forced through the wet, snowy leaves out past the fence.

And then it's not the old man, it's Katniss being shot. I'm reaching out to save her, but my feet are too heavy to move.

It's not always that scenario, but that one is enough to terrify me. Sometimes I dream about Cato hurting her, stabbing her through with his sword like he did so many girls before. Or Snow, taking up the gun and shooting her through the brain. No matter what I do, she dies. In my arms, or in front of me, she dies in the nightmares. And there's nothing I can do to stop it.

They jar me awake each night and I'm so scared to move, to breathe, that I get light-headed.

I'm not the only one having nightmares though, Katniss does as well. Hers are more obvious though, more vocal, and they always wake me up if I'm not up already. She screams and thrashes until I'm moving, holding her close, kissing her hair. I whisper to her that it will be okay, but I know we'll repeat it again the next night.

Every time, she's against me, kissing, crying, and wanting more. She'll move against me, her hands coming down to my underwear, wanting mine in hers. I do what I can, pleasure her until the tears have dried, until her heavy pants are from pleasure. But it's not exactly what she wants from me, and I know it.

She wants my thrusting hips, she wants me in her, shuddering against her, making her forget. But I can't, instead, I wrap her up tight against me, comb my fingers gently through her beautiful brown hair, and sleep with her through the night. The only one that can comfort her, the only one that can empathize with what she's going through. I'm what she sees when she first wakes up each morning.

It's what I've always wanted. What I've needed. But I don't want it like this. She's so hurt, so sad. I want her to be happy, smiling, when she wakes up. Maybe, in time, that Katniss will come back.

As the days go on, Katniss looks more and more miserable, sick.

She gets these haunting black lines below her beautiful grey eyes, she stops eating almost completely and it scares me. I can see her struggling to keep it together. Her fingers shake as she holds the fork up to her mouth, sometimes she even spills her food over. I find, more often then not, that I'm moving to sit by her, helping to calm her, even feeding her myself.

She's convincing enough when she needs to be, but she doesn't fool me, the prep teams, or Haymitch and Effie. Not in the slightest.

* * *

When I propose to her on stage, I almost feel light on my feet, though I know she's said 'yes' already, it's nice to get it out there for everyone to see. To know that she is accepting my hand, and to know that it's real, that she means it, that she'll accept me; even though I'm not much of the man I was before.

Caesar Flickerman bounces on the balls of his feet, truly happy for us, and he's the enthusiasm that keeps me smiling a real blinding one through the entire thing.

Even though there's so much surprise and support and publicity with it now, this all pales in comparison to the day that she said 'yes' for only my ears to hear. Maybe it's because I'm not pleasuring her like I did against the counter of my kitchen, or because I'm not ghosting my breath across her hard nipples and she isn't chanting my name out like a sweet prayer, but that could be _part _of what's missing. A decent chunk of it, at least.

But that means that no one, not a single person celebrating our engagement, will ever know how many times it took me asking her, begging her, being persistent with Katniss, for her to finally say 'yes'.

The reality of that makes this all suddenly feel so wrong.

But I try my best to ignore it, keep a strong face, and fight through seeing Snow. I have the hardest time doing it as I watch him wrap his filthy arms around her, joke with her as she pretends for all of them.

I can't stop the overwhelming feeling though, that I'm in the wrong place, looking at him. How does Haymitch expect us to just pretend? I can pull it off, but that doesn't mean that I'm ever going to enjoy it.

* * *

The banquet passed without complete embarrassment, the puke drinks were avoided, and the feelings I had before for Katniss and my prep teams has been tried. I can't just pretend that the things they said don't bother me, that they drink and puke so that they can eat more. How many children in the Districts are starving right now? And none of them will know, fortunately, what Katniss and I now know.

It disgusts me, and I want to forget it, but I know that I can't. I have to remember all of this. This is my weapon. This is what I'll paint. I'll paint these 'cute little' puke glasses. And they will all know what it means, the people that matter.

They probably don't even know any better. All in all, the villain here is still the same as it's always been. Snow. Snow and his manipulations. He makes us all look like sad, sorry, stupid little fools.

But the dinner is done, the dancers are calmed, we drink a tea together before we all head off to sleep late, and before I know; it's morning.

The nightmare I polish off is dark then most, dark enough to rip my breath from my lungs, to swell my tongue in my mouth. And I could struggle, if only I could move. But it's like I'm strapped down to the bed, crazy and insane with the nightmare, void of movement. I can't control my limbs at all.

It isn't Snow shooting her this time, or Cato stabbing her, or even of the Peacekeeper from District Eleven. Instead, it's me.

I'm in Cato's place now, staring down at her as the useless boy behind me struggles to save her, Gale probably, but I don't care about that now. The only thing that matters is to hurt this young, beautiful girl. I'm crawling over her now, slithering, like a large worm, tearing through her clothes to get at the unscarred flesh underneath. I'm enjoying her screams of fear and terror, painting lilies with her blood.

I'm ripping open her rib cage with my large paws to grasp her heart in my hands. And when I silence her, it's with my fists. My own two fists hit her so hard in her face that the jaw is breaking, the broken nose is turning into a mess of mush, blood and bone. Her skull is caving in and her screams die out as her nails drag down my wrists.

When I wake up, I'm still, shuddering on the inside, and comforted because it's light in the room and there are no shadows to make the shapes of my nightmare more real to me. My cheeks are soaked from tears and I'm calmed immediately by Katniss's rhythmic breathing, her sleeping form huddled up close in my arms.

She hadn't scared me awake at all. No nightmares for her. Lucky. I wipe my face clean, hug her up closer and just lay there. I kiss her forehead a few times, run my fingertips over her bare arm, and breathe in the gentle earthy scent of her.

Hours slowly pass as I lay there in the comfort of her, let myself drift gently in and out of light sleep. And she wakes up finally when I'm blinking and looking around the room myself.

"No nightmares," I whisper to her softly.

She 'hmm's sleepily a question and I chuckle against her, "You didn't have any nightmares last night."

She then responds by telling me about a dream she's had instead, of a Rue bird, singing to her. Finally, as if she's realized something, she asks: "How come I never know when you have nightmares, Peeta?"

"I can't really tell," I shrug nonchalantly, "I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror."

"You should wake me."

"It's not necessary, Katniss. I calm down well enough on my own, when I wake up and see that you're here sleeping, alive."

"Alive?" She asks as her head lifts up to look up at me, "Am I not alive in your dreams?"

"Nightmares," I correct her, "And you're dying."

Katniss frowns at this and a very concerned look swells over her face, "You have nightmares about me dying?"

"All of the time."

"Last night?"

"The worst."

She looks interested, "Can you tell me about it?"

I raise my brow at her, "I'm not sure if you want to know, Katniss."

"I want to help."

I turn us over so that I'm on top now, run my hands up her sides and smile down at her, "You already help me enough."

Katniss grins wide, wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down into a deep kiss.

Tempted, I slip my tongue between her lips, touch her's as I slide my hands under her night shirt. I rub my thumbs over her nipples, a soft whisper of a caress.

Her legs part and knees squeeze at my hips to pull me down against her body.

"I love you," I say against her ear, move down to take up her left breast in my mouth, palm her other one with my hand. The free, right hand, moves eagerly down between her welcoming thighs, strokes once over the crease in her panties for warning.

Her breathing intensifies and a soft moan escapes as I thrust a finger into her. She's soaking wet, warm and tight as I thumb the outer flesh of her entrance.

"Peeta," she gasps out and I push two fingers into her now, curl them, and she wants more, "Please."

She always wants more. I don't listen to her though, I tease her, rubbing softly, gently with two of my fingers, she's wriggling underneath me. She thrusts her hips up to push them in deeper so I hold her hip down.

I tease for minutes, not just her either, because I want to do more as well. There's an ace I've been holding onto for a while now though and, once I think she's had enough, I pull it out.

In one swift move, her underwear meets and makes acquaintances with the floor of the train, I remove my lips from her gorgeous chest, trailed them patiently down her soft, toned stomach, sucked and nipped gently. She sits up in surprise that I've made such a bold move and I tilt my head back up to kiss her.

With her right knee over my left shoulder, I remove my hand from her and replace it with my mouth. I've tasted her on my fingers before, so it doesn't surprise, or disturb me. Instead, I'm salivating more then I'd expected.

Just thinking of this has had that effect in the past, but the loud moan I receive as a 'thank you' shimmies right down between my legs and my already hard member throbs in surprise.

I tongue over her folds, taste and test every inch, before I've decided that the single most sensitive part is the highest as well. Concentrating there with my mouth, it gives my fingers free reign of her tightness. When I thrust them in, her fist grabs a healthy amount of my hair and pulls in need.

"Peeta, oh," she gasps in shock, "Oh."

She can't find the words.

If I was cocky enough, I would've smirked, but the effect she's having on me is enough for this moment to be satisfying, victorious, and highly arousing.

I haven't studied the female body at all, hardly paid attention in classes about it, but whatever she's enjoying most, I find, is easy enough to enjoy myself. I treat the flesh as I would her breasts, with grazing teeth, watered mouth, textured tongue, and suck enough to elicit sounds from her I could've never dreamed of.

The taste that hits my tongue then is immediate, but similar to what I've been tasting all along. It's more concentrated, thick, and doesn't bother me at all. But her legs are shaking and when I pull up at the sound of her sob, I'm surprised and worried to see her crying.

Her hands move to cover her face and I climb up in concern.

"Katniss?" I ask softly, "are you okay?"

Her legs shake violently at my sides and she starts to laugh softly.

"Of course I'm okay," she says through her tears, "I feel like a complete dork for crying though, but I can't stop it."

"Why are you crying?" I pull her hands from her face and she lifts her head to kiss me.

"Because," she explains, "You do amazing things."

I raise a brow, "You're okay then?"

She nods, "More then okay, that was... Just amazing. Thank you."

I smile wide, grab her face in my hands and kiss her, glad that I've managed to satisfy her enough to bring on such happiness. Happy tears. I may do amazing things, but it's definitely her that **is **amazing.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Reviews are very much loved. Tell me what genre yer interested in, review the chapter, just say hi, or do all three! It is most appreciated. Writer's need some fuel, _we do this fer free after all_.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	6. Chapter 5 OPTION B: These Gentle Hands

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option B

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note:**

Peeniss... Best pairing name since As/S.

**PLEASE READ THIS. I'm not even kidding. PLEASE. Take time before you read this chapter, and read my warning.**

You all know I don't put warnings at all, and crazy shit has happened in this story already. But this is serious.

This chapter is going to be **brutal**, and from now on it's more or less going to be similar. It's going to get dark. I'm warning you now, so I don't hurt anyone. I don't warn lightly. I'm not going to hold back in this, so yer getting what you came fer.

**Read with caution**, it's going to be **bloody, graphic, brutal, and explicit**. I'm not the vague Suzanne Collins. I'm KaKaVegeGurl, Cammerel Angelene, a whole different thing.

_So be ready. I'm just getting that off my chest, now, on with the real author's note._

I have a proposition fer all of my readers out there! I want to start this now so that we have some momentum when my version of Mockingjay ends. I'd kinda like to hold onto the sum of my readers that enjoy my 'writing style' in particular and would like to see more of me.

I'm going to start a rather... 'Costless project' after I finish the ENTIRETY of this story. And I want you all to give me the strings to weave it.

How, may you ask is this going to werk? Simple, each chapter or so on, I'm going to ask some questions, simply answer in a note or review. Yer not obligated, but my readers opinions matter to me.

We're going to start off now with the first, which is obviously, **genre**.

KaKaVegeGurl writes an original story/mini series of fics on Fictionpress dot net. What would you want to read about?

**Post-Apocalyptical **- Zombies, like Dawn of the Dead, Left 4 Dead, Walking Dead, etc. With strong characters and deeper plot then yer average zombie movie.

**Future World **- Space, Star Trek, Aliens, Universe war, etc. With crews and ships and tactics.

**Past World **- Dinosaurs, or cavemen. O.o

**Fantasy World **- With ghouls, goblins, unicorns, elves, etc.

**Steampunk World **- Leviathan, I like this sort of steampunk verse idea, personally.

**Other Verse **- Not humans at all, but a new race or species, alien world life.

**Present Day Drama **- A story that approaches hard to talk about topics such as teen-pregnancy, depression, suicide, bullies, bulimia, anorexia, sexual orientation, etc.

**Murder Mystery **- Investigations, Law and Order, Sherlock Holmes.

Or a different one, if I missed any.

So just, you know, opinions are nice, ty all. Just would like to know. Also, **Only Skin and Only Born **will be taken off of fictionpress soon, so read those if yer interested in my other original story that WILL be published, werking on that now, but Ima tear it down in like a month, you can find the link to my fictionpress on my page.

I want to thank everyone fer sticking around and enjoying the chapters, one Tuesday after another. The support, reviews, and love are much appreciated.

Two more things, Megamind, best Dreamwerks movie by far. E E E And er, just finished up Mass Effect 1, and started in on Mass Effect 2. Loving it.

Enjoy, and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Something ugly this way comes  
Through my fingers, sliding inside  
All these blessings, all these burns  
I'm godless underneath your cover  
Search for pleasure, search for pain  
In this world, now I am undying  
I unfurl my flag, my nation helpless

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**Chapter 5 - These Gentle Hands

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**

Banquets afterwards feel meaningless and tasteless, the flavor from the food seems absent, or soured. We force ourselves from bed each day to act out Snow's command to prove our already proven love.

It's an exhausting thing, to over-live, over-hype something that already exists. And I can see how unresponsive our crowds are. I can imagine the weariness some of them feel, that not _only _have Katniss and I lived through the games, but we're overly happy and rubbing it down into their faces.

_Look at me, everyone. I have this beautiful woman on my arm, look at her pretty painted lips, see the desire for me in her eyes. Look how happy__** I**__ am about it. You __**wish **__you were this happy. You __**wish **__you had everything like I do, all the money you could care to have, all the attention and adoration. _It's a rudeness I could've never imagined up on my own. Clearly, I'm not as creative as Snow and his posse.

At night, I see the old man's brains being splattered backwards, his wriggling body as it loses control forevermore, feel the heat of sticky redness land on my cheek. And then I see the same thing happening to Katniss. _Bang_, splatter.

It's nightmares like these, seeing her beautiful chunks of brain on the wall, watching her little body shudder. Nightmares like these, that haunt me.

Sometimes I see Cato tearing through her flesh like a ravenous dog, eating the meat of her, raping her limp corpse, her blood dribbling down his chin in waves. Other times I watch helplessly as Snow takes the place of the Peacekeeper with the gun. She dies one way or another and in each one I'm unable to save her, and then I wake up, terrified to move, terrified to even breathe.

Katniss, curled close in my arms, has nightmares of her own. And sometimes, often enough after I've waken, she screams. And I roll on top of her and kiss her awake. Hold her as she sobs against me and clutches my shoulders for dear life.

Nearly every time she wants a comfort that I can't yet provide, even though I want to. I want to badly. So instead, I do my best. I'm the large arms circling around her small frame, I'm the gentle fingers brushing through her hair, the whisper of reassurance in her ear, and also my favorite... The only man strong enough to stay with her in bed and be there when she wakes finally in the morning, when the sun is up.

These times when she's screaming her throat raw, I can handle them, in a silly way they comfort me. Let me know that we suffer together. Neither of us will be alone with this. But if I had the choice, I'd take her pain away. It hurts more then anything to see her struggle with something that neither of us can stop.

She looks weary more as the days go on, shadows form under her eyes, appetite completely out the window, fingers clawing on anything she touches as the nerves fill her and she shakes uncontrollably. But her act in front of the crowds is strong and convincing to everyone; except me and our group on the train.

* * *

I'm proposing to her finally, in front of Panem, Caesar Flickerman is ecstatic as he bounces on his heels, and it feels meaningless compared to the kitchen proposal. It could be because my fingers aren't inside of her, or maybe because my lips aren't moving over her breasts and her voice isn't moaning for more of me; but I think that's only half. Well, seventy percent. At most.

The percent that truly matters though is the one that consists of falsities. _This has already happened_, I tell myself as I take her hand in mine,_ it is not bravery that has gotten me down on one knee tonight. Because I already know she's going to say yes. This isn't a struggle at all, not a fight like it really __**was**__. And no one will ever know how many times I begged her to say 'yes' before now._

It feels wrong.

But I ignore it, keep a strong face for the people, and fight through seeing Snow. I'm having the hardest time not folding my fingers around his immortal neck and ripping it separate from his head and body. I have to fight it even more as he jokes with 'Capitol Katniss', and hugs her tight to his form.

Oh, what fun it would be, to destroy him now and witness the chaos that ensues afterwards. I don't even need a weapon. I could just smash his head against the ground. That's all I need, my two fists, and him.

I don't though.

And I think my mind is going to darker places then intended. His, Snow's world is infecting me, it's changing me into something I don't want to be. I don't want to think like this. But it's just something he does to me, something that he has planted inside of me, something he left behind. Not Snow; but Cato.

He's there always, in front of me, ripping Katniss's shirt open and squeezing tight his hands around her breasts. He's biting her cheek, he's kissing her. **He **is kissing her. He's kissing _her_. He's destroying her.

My heart hammers away, smashes at the bones in my torso, and I want... I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him so badly. But he's already dead.

_You don't do that to Katniss_, I scream at him in my mind and the voice I hear in there is miserable. _You don't hurt her. You hurt me._

All of this time, I think these things, while I smile at the crowd, joke with Caesar, shake hands with Snow and seem to enjoy the congratulations on my engagement. And I want to kill him.

* * *

The banquet has passed, the puke drinks avoided, and the morning hits me with a shuddering halt. The nightmare I've had before last night has pressed so hard on my heart that I think the organ has lodged itself in my esophagus. I can't breathe and I struggle inwardly, feel my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth.

I want to scream, but I can't. It's like watching Katniss take the stage at the Reaping. I am rendered useless once again.

The nightmare, particularly dark this time, is not of Snow killing her, or Cato, or even the Peacekeeper. But it's me now.

I've taken Cato's place, stood over her and threatened her life with my growing erection, eager to put her in her place, to take from her something she can't ever get back. And then I'm crawling like a slime over her.

A large bulbous worm, drooling some kind of sick muck over her sweet thighs, pressed it through her folds and seeded a monster in her. I'm the blood dribbling Cato-dog tearing through her clothes to get at the delicious flesh underneath. I take pleasure in her screams as I rape her thrashing, quivering body.

I can see, clear as day, the fear in her eyes as I tear into her, spill blood over her thighs, hit her when she's gotten too violent in response.

And her jaw breaks, her mouth is blood and broken teeth, and I come inside of her as I bury myself as far and deep as I can. I shove her twitching body away. And then, only then, does one feeling fill me completely.

Victory.

I lay in the bed, terrified, tears wet on my cheeks and I look down at her sleeping form, calm and serene. How could I dream something like this?

My heart calms down from it's break-neck pace, I wipe the tears away and settle back down finally.

Katniss's breathing is steady, rhythmic as she burrows against me, her hands are balled but they rest lazily against my side.

To comfort myself, I wrap my arms tight around her, hug her close, and watch her sleep. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo and enjoy the warmth of her unharmed, unwounded, un-raped body against me.

Hours pass as afternoon hits and Katniss finally stirs. She's telling me of her dreams when she asks: "How come I never know when you're having a nightmare?"

"I don't know," I shrug it as I'm reminded of her torn flesh, my cock thrusting into her unwilling body, and garbled screams. But I hide it from her, "I don't really think I cry out like you do, or thrash around in my sleep or anything. I just wake up, paralyzed with terror."

"You should wake me up. You don't have to handle it alone."

"It's not necessary. I calm down well enough on my own, especially when I wake up and see that you're here sleeping, unharmed."

"What do you mean?" She asks as her head lifts up to look up at me, "What's wrong with me in your dreams?"

"Nightmares, Katniss." I correct her, "And you're... Normally being hurt."

Katniss frowns at this and a very concerned look paints over her face, "Is it because of what happened in the Arena? Because of Cato?"

"Yes."

She pauses, looks down at my chest, "I know you'd never do that to me. I trust you. Cato was a monster, Peeta. You don't have to worry about it now, you killed him."

"I can't help what I have nightmares about," I say softly, "I'd never hurt you like that, Katniss. But it bothers me that he tried."

"Bothers me too," she smiled and kissed me, "I have nightmares about it as well. Not often, but they are there. All I can tell myself for comfort is that it won't be like that when you make love to me. When you touch me, it's loving, and your fingers are so gentle. Rough, but only texture rough. They're so gentle on my skin. Not like his. And you push up my clothes, you don't tear. And your lips are accepting, eager, and welcome. Not selfish.

"I've never thought of sex before, until I was with you," she admits softly, "Now, I can't wait for it, for the moment when you fill me, and I can stare up into your eyes. And when your thrusts are gentle, wanted, accepted. You're always gentle, Peeta."

I smile at her sweet words, turn her over onto her back and kiss her neck, "Like this?"

Katniss giggles softly underneath me, and it's not the 'Capitol Katniss' giggle, but a real one. Her hands trace my shoulders, "How can a man be as gentle as you?"

"I guess," I start, "Because, I'm a man. And Cato was a monster." I repeat her words from before and she nods.

She leans up then and presses her lips to mine, "I want to do something soon."

I kiss her back before saying sarcastically: "Don't we all?"

"No," she says, "I mean, I don't want us to be married by Snow first. Can't we do it on our own, without the Capitol being involved?"

I stop at this notion and stare into her grey eyes, "Like... The Toast? And be married without them?"

She nods, "It's more important to me."

"Me too."

"Maybe sometime soon," she's saying but I don't care to hear anymore. The happiness filling me hits at my chest so hard that I have to hold the sobs back. I wrap her up tightly in my arms, kiss her lips, kiss her so deeply that I hear her breathing out in surprise.

I grab her face then and move my lips down to her neck, over her chest, across her hands, and she's laughing at my enthusiasm.

Katniss's fingers run through my hair and the peace of it coats over me comfortably like a vanilla cake covered, center to corners, in warm icing. I settle down and snug up against her.

"Alright Katniss," I agree finally, "We'll have our own toast, without anyone around, we'll do it on our own."

It's a settled agreement that I'm surprised she's brought up on her own; and that I didn't think of it at all. It's perfect, defy the rules of the Capitol, and Snow, at the same time. I don't want to be married there, by their people, that don't know our District's ways. But when it **does **happen, now _it _will be the facade instead. We'll already be married.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

You know I love reviews about as much as I love the new Chick-fil-A sauce. Which is saying something, I could drink that stuff like SOUP. Or Coke. Whichever.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	7. Chapter 6 OPTION A: Strong Weaknesses

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option A

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**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note:**

Setting it up differently so that my author's note is not a huge mess. So. Yeah, this is Option A.

You'll notice now that the two Peetas, one from A and the one from B, are acting differently. Like... A LOT differently. You'll notice this more drastically as time goes on. ^^ He rly is becoming two ppl now. XP What can I say, I never keep it simple.

Also, things in this one aren't going to stay all perfect and mushy gooey, something has to happen, so expect that soon as well. If you would please take the time to answer the _Question of the Week_, and maybe even last weeks if yer a little late? That''s still open. Opinions are loved lots!

Thank you all fer reading and staying true, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

-**Current Week**: This weeks question is... Male or Female main character for my original story?

-**Week 1**: Original story by me when Mockingjay is finished. **What Genre do you want?** Mostly voted-I got like 4 suggestions so lemme pick through them. The thing is fer not. The Hunger Games is definitely fer not. I said original werk. The other two were Sherlock mystery theme, and the teen troubles thing with depression, anorexia, suicide, etc. **I'll leave this open.** But I'm rly leaning to some kind of school thing with that depression, divorce, sibling rivalry, suicide, etc.

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**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 5: "Yes, every vote DOES count."

LittleAsian: "Katniss preggers! ^^"

harrypotter71598: "Vampire Werewolf teen thing... I have 'Only Skin' already. This has to be something else. 'Only Skin' is my original piece on **fictionpress dot net **that is coming down soon because I'm going to publish it."

Emily (my biggest fan): "Aww, thank you so much fer the review. It was very loved and cherished. E I put it in a safe lil box now."

* * *

**Side Notes:**

You know some real bad tricks  
And you need some discipline  
But, lately you've been trying real hard  
And giving me your best  
And, you give me the most gorgeous sleep  
That I've ever had  
And when it's really bad  
I guess it's not that bad

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Strong Weaknesses

* * *

**

The rest of the afternoon went just as well as waking up. Katniss stayed at my side, almost glued to me as we ate lunch and finally arrived back in District Twelve.

We were talking about looking forward to being mentors, Haymitch shooting us knowing looks every few minutes, and finally stepping out onto the platform. I had enough time to take a look around at everyone there when abrupt movement was heard, I turned to see and was hit hard in the jaw.

The punch threw me off balance and I fell to the ground hard. My fake leg pulled strangely where it was connected but the pain in my jaw was more immediate and effective.

Gale Hawthorne stood above me, his longer black hair messy, his face covered in coal dust, he was even wearing his work clothes, and his fist was wrapped in a glove. The hatred, pure anger in his eyes, chilled me down to the bone.

I should have expected this.

Copper taste fills my mouth and I run through each tooth with my tongue to make sure they're all still there. It doesn't really hurt as much as I would've expected. Cato had punched me in the face too many times to count. So Gale's fist, albeit new and different, pales in comparison.

I hear Katniss yelling at him, "Gale! Leave him alone, Gale!"

People are moving forward to see better, but they don't bother as Gale shoves Katniss away and hits me again.

I feel the anger rise up, want to protect myself, but in a swift move Katniss has grabbed him back and shoved him from me.

"What are you doing?" She yells at him, "Huh? Why do you have to be such a jerk?"

Gale stops and stares at her in surprise, "Katniss–"

"Don't 'Katniss' me, Gale," She says darkly and turns to help me to my feet. When I'm up finally she looks at him again, "I don't even know who you are anymore."

Katniss takes my hand, "Come on, let's go get you cleaned up."

My heart fills with pride at her and we walk together with our prep teams away from the platform.

* * *

The harvest passes without problems and I don't even see Gale there at all. Katniss doesn't talk about standing up for me, but I know it was hard for her to pick me in front of him. She's such a strong woman though, sometimes it amazes me... the things she does.

That evening when we get to our houses, she tells her mother and Prim that she's going to stay the night with me. She says this, and when her mother starts to argue back, Katniss puts her hand up and shakes her head. Then we leave together after nine, giving her and her family time to enjoy each other before sleep.

I let her into the house and kick my shoes off. I'm taking off my jacket when her lips are pressed to mine. I stop, hands back behind me trying to remove the sleeves, and Katniss pushes us both back against the door.

Her hands are up in my hair as she pulls me down and shoves our hips together.

When the kiss breaks, she slips her fingers into my arm holes and pushes the jacket from my back. It falls to the floor and we're kissing again. I wrap my arm around her slim waist and we're shifting, I feel her feet moving backwards and she turns us so that my knees hit the couch. She pulls from the kiss and looks at me before her fingers are at my waist, unbuckling my belt, snapping open the button and pulling the zipper down.

I gasp in surprise as she doesn't even separate boxers from pants and just pulls them both down at the same time.

She pushes me back lightly so that I'm sitting on the couch and she leans low, her knee set between my legs and kisses me again.

I grab the collar of her jacket and yank it off of her, fist my fingers at her neck and ear to deepen the connection. She helps me remove her shirt and then unbuttons mine.

"Katniss," I gasp and she moves down to petal her lips over my torso.

Her face and fingers go down, and I'm about to start hyperventilating when she avoids my cock completely and starts to do the oddest thing.

Her lips press over the metal of my artificial leg and then she kisses the meeting between it and my real skin, her bangs softly brush over some of the most sensitive places on my hip. I go ridged completely at the kindness of her, her hands gently caressing the scarred surface.

I stare down at her, eyebrows meeting my hairline, moved by this simple action–Her, Katniss; the girl of my dreams, accepting my imperfection completely. Embracing it, and hell, she's not avoiding it at all. She's got her lips moving against it.

Her eyes open and she looks up at me with an expression I've only seen her use a few times. When she watches Prim stare at my beautiful cakes, when she gave me the berries in the arena, when she first explained to me how to aim the bow and arrow, "I love you."

It takes everything in me not to grab her up into my arms and cover myself over her. What have I gotten my hands on here? Honestly. What outrageous, awesome feat have I accomplished, to deserve this beautiful, amazing woman? She is perfect in every way, more perfect then I can have imagined.

She smiles at the look on my face and then stands, pokes her hand in her back pocket for something before she pulls it out and begins to take off the rest of her clothes. Her pants gone, she strips her underwear away as well as she stands before me. And then she removes her bra.

Her solid, beautiful, naked form is breathlessly attractive. This is the first time I've seen her like this. And she's not shy, she's not bothering to hide a thing. Her round, gently freckled breasts, the long, smooth stomach that has been toned from climbing trees, the gentle patch of hair between her thick, muscled thighs, the curve to her body so different from any man's. From mine.

I swallow as I watch her hold the tiny square package in her slim, practiced fingers, the fingers that string bows, tie knots and traps, grasp the knife to cut into fur from rabbits, and hold the arrow steady enough to still water. She tears it open and kneels before me. _Oh, god._

She presses the condom over me and begins to fold it down the length. At this point, I'm leaning forward to touch her confident, still hands with my own. And they're shaking. She looks up and smiles at me, "Tell me you want to do this?"

I can only nod, swallow, and then she climbs on top of me. She doesn't kiss, but lets me watch as she sets her knees on either side of me, I take myself in my hand and she lowers herself on my lap.

Interesting, as we both stare at the action, watching as I disappear in her; hardly any amount before she stops.

"I've never–"

She'd been so confident, I would've thought she'd done this many times. I've guessed she had the personality to have at least lost it already. I don't assume she sells herself or that she's easy, just that maybe... Maybe Gale had gotten that far?

"Me neither," I tell her and she smiles. Then she nods.

I plant my feet firm on the floor, one that I feel the entire movement, the other–just pressure. I put my large hands on her small hips to hold her steady and she sets her own on my shoulders.

And then I thrust upwards into her, feel the barrier inside her body give way, her face scrunches up and she gasps. It's expected, the pain, but that doesn't stop it from hurting her. And all around me I can feel the folds, the tissues, the muscles, the inside of her made to embrace me. I feel her clutch around my length, the tightness of her straining at the thickness, far more then my fingers, and I remember how tight that was.

I lean up and kiss her, press my lips to hers open, massage her tongue with mine. Her hands on my shoulders move to caress the back of my neck and then she moves her hips upwards.

_Oh..._ That's the only thing I can think as she slides back down. _God._

She pulls out of the kiss to look at me as she starts a rhythm between us. The pressure of her muscles tightening around me as she lifts and falls is amazing. My body, not use to this practice, is overwhelmed.

It's only a few more movements, up and down, that I release. But I don't stop, slow down, or even acknowledge it as I stare up into her eyes. Instead, I grab her hips quickly, turn her to my right, and lay her down on the couch. I settle myself over her, between her legs and take one up with me so that I can thrust in deeper.

Her gasps, her moans fill my ears, her hands struggle with where to perch. They move over my face, rest against my chest, then wrap around my back.

I bend down all of the way, put my own under her back and pull her up into my arms. Our sweat mixes, panting heavy together, and I feel her legs start to shutter as she gasps my name between thrusts.

I pull away a bit to stare into her eyes, kiss her swollen lips and slam down into her. Her back arches, pressing our bellies together and the movement shifts me inside her. She gasps in surprise.

"Peeta," she breathes. I fold my hand under her lower back to keep the position and thrust more.

Her nails graze down my back as she lifts her own leg higher, so that it's on my shoulder now. She's chanting my name like she did in my kitchen and I know I'm completely hard again.

Sweat pours off my chin and I kiss her neck, thumb her breasts, then take one up in my mouth. Her hand grasps tight in my hair. I bury myself completely in her and the release swells over me again, little shocks inside my leg as I grab her close and pant her name against her collarbone.

I slow, breathe out to calm myself, and rest against her. My hair is soaked with sweat, our bodies stick together in ways I've always wanted them to. I wish, so badly, that I could just melt right into her like butter into warm toast. Maybe I already am.

You'd think, after so many times of jacking off on my own, that I would've mastered that feeling. Her tightness around me. But certainly not. I wish I'd had one of these when I was younger.

I'm grinning, breathing deep, and raise my head as her fingers brush through my soaked hair.

She looks, for the first time ever, completely and utterly relaxed and satisfied.

"Amazing," She says with a wide smile.

I sigh happily and grin like a fool, "We should do it often and frequently."

She nods, "I could get use to it."

I pull up completely now, our stomachs making a sound like peeling a sticker from a desk, and ask: "How was it for you? Did it hurt?"

She thinks for a moment, "Compared to my ear being blown up, having my face punched in by Cato, being stung by tracker jackers, and my leg catching fire?" She says, smiling wider as she goes on, "It was nothing. It went away fast. The pleasure though... Decided to linger."

"I love you," I tell her softly, "I've always loved you, Katniss. I've always wanted you to be happy, to be... Like this."

* * *

After that, Katniss and I remained just as close every night the following week. The practice lasting longer each time, mind-blowing, and I could see the effect it has on her. I grin wide as I come to. Katniss.

The boot hitting the floor startles me awake completely and I look up to see her at the foot of the bed... Getting dressed, "Where are you going?"

Startled, she turns around and smiles sheepishly, "Uh, I was just going out."

"Hunting?" I ask softly.

She shakes her head, "Not really. I wanted to go and talk to Gale."

I sit back against the pillows and close my eyes, "Alright, just be careful."

Katniss bounds over to me on the bed and kisses me softly, "You're not upset?"

I raise my brow, "Why would I be upset? You're with me. I'm not going to stop you from seeing your best friend."

"I love you," she says, smiling wide.

"I love you too," I run my palm down her back sensually and pat her, "Go on now, or you're going to miss him."

She leaves the room and I stare up at the ceiling._ Today is going to be a good day, _I think to myself. And I don't know if I'm being sarcastic or not.

* * *

Apparently, I was being sarcastic.

I lock the door to my home, pocket the key and set off for the city to join my family in an unusual, untimely dinner. My large jacket makes me feel smaller then I am and I stuff my cold hands deep into the large pockets.

I just reach the end of the road when Katniss joins me, "Hey," I say happily, "You coming to the dinner?"

She looks at me in concern and asks abruptly: "What would you say if I asked you to run away with me?"

The smile tugs at my lips and I turn to look into her eyes, "Run away?"

"Into the forest, with our families. What would you say?"

"What about Gale?" I ask, confused.

She nods, "Him too, if he wanted to come. Would you?"

"I'd go, of course," I don't even hesitate, "Of course I would go, Katniss. But I don't think that you will."

She starts to get upset so I bend down and kiss her.

"But, should you actually get ready," I tell her as I push her bangs out of her eyes, "I will go with you."

I look back ahead of us when a sound gets my attention and see a crowd gathered in the square of the town, there's a constant sound of pressure, gasps from the people, and a snap just before they do.

Katniss grabs my arm, "What's going on?" She asks.

I take her hand and we run forward but the crowd is in the way. I stand up on a crate and help Katniss up as well. My eyes set on a man in the center of the square, in his hand is a thick whip. Ahead of him is another man, bound by the hands to a large pole, and bleeding.

His back is coated with fresh, dripping blood; looking like a canvas that's been splattered violently with red paint. The muscle is exposed, twisted with chunks of torn flesh that hang from the man's backside. Blood drips in little beads to join a pool below him and as the whip hits, blood sticks with it and slings with the movement.

From his feet, there are long red streaks on the ground that have been made when the bloodied whip has come down. The man himself is unconscious. And I know immediately who it is.

Katniss gasps, "Gale!" and jumps from the crate.

I turn to stop her, "Katniss!"

She takes off into the crowd, but I've grabbed her hand and am right behind her as she shoves through bodies and jumps in the way to take the hit from the whip. Fury fills me as it connects with her cheek and she lets out a soft, shocked gasp, "Stop it, you'll kill him!" She screams.

I move to the man holding the whip, rip the weapon from his arm, and throw it to the ground. He glares down, lifts his arm to hit me when I block it, and slam my elbow into his jaw with all of the force from my legs and waist.

"Peeta!"

Three guards grab at me, but I back away and look at them in the eyes to show that I'm calm enough, and I haven't got plans to do more damage.

If I haven't already done too much.

I turn to grab Katniss up as tears pour down her cheeks and the side where the whip hit is swelling up already.

"Katniss," I whisper and she looks at me.

"Is he okay?"

I smile sadly, "I don't know."

Haymitch steps up to us, his face contorted in anger. Lividly, he grabs Katniss's cheek to look at it, "Oh excellent," he turns to glare up at the new Head Peacekeeper I hit, who now has a reddened cheek as well, "She's got a photo shoot next week."

His eyes widen as he realizes who he's lashed and starts to say something but I cut him off.

"Does anyone have a knife?" I ask.

A woman passes me one and I stand and turn to the Head Peacekeeper, point at him threatening, and then I don't say anything more. Instead, I move to Gale to cut him down.

He's limp completely, unconscious, blood pouring from his wounds. And I feel weary of this entire situation now. Who could beat a man when he has no defense like this?

It all comes back to one person in the end, Snow. It's always snow. And I glare at the white stuff around the square as if it's really him. I'll never look at snow the same way.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Thank you all fer reading, please remember to review, all is loved and enjoyed.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	8. Chapter 6 OPTION B: Powerful Lesson

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option B

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**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note:**

Peeniss, it's like breathing.

Hey everybody, time fer our favorite option! I mean... Option B.

Set up things differently, in case you didn't read option A's note. Tired of my author's notes being so long. So please, answer the Question of the Week, and maybe ever last weeks, if you would be so kind?

Also, **hogwartsismydrug **had a question that I want to address. First of all, to you yerself, I responded wrong in the reply. To all now... YES, yes it is going to get darker. When Peeta gets hijacked, yer going to see something spawn from me you never imagined. I plan to make this much... MUCH darker.

Plus, Alex, I adore you, never met you, but you are a sweetie. Much love!

That is all fer now. Thank you lot fer reading, please continue on and enjoy! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi.

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

-**Current Week**: This week's question is... Male or Female main character for my original story?

-**Week 1**: Original story by me when Mockingjay is finished. What Genre do you want? **Mostly voted**-I got like 4 suggestions so lemme pick through them. The thing is fer not. The Hunger Games is definitely fer not. I said original werk. The other two were Sherlock mystery theme, and the teen troubles thing with depression, anorexia, suicide, etc. **I'll leave this open**. But I'm rly leaning to some kind of school thing with that.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 5: "Yes, every vote DOES count."

LittleAsian: "Katniss preggers! ^^"

harrypotter71598: "Vampire Werewolf teen thing... I have 'Only Skin' already. This has to be something else. 'Only Skin' is my original piece on **fictionpress dot net **that is coming down soon because I'm going to publish it."

Emily (my biggest fan): "Aww, thank you so much fer the review. It was very loved and cherished. I put it in a safe lil box now."

* * *

**Side Notes:**

I want somebody to share; Share the rest of my life; Share my innermost thoughts  
Know my intimate details  
Someone who'll stand by my side and give me support  
And in return she'll get my support  
She will listen to me when I want to speak about the world we live in and life in general  
Though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted  
She'll hear me out and won't easily be converted to my way of thinking  
In fact she'll often disagree  
But, at the end of it all, she will understand me

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Powerful Lesson

* * *

**

For the morning, or afternoon waking, everything had been going so well. Ignoring the nightmare of raping her, the chat that morning and Katniss's sweet little proposal for an early marriage had been perfect.

We were back in Twelve finally and the train was slowing down into the station. Who would've thought that my first step off of the train would be short spent with my feet on the ground, and longer spent with my ass on it instead?

We have just finished talking about being mentors in the upcoming games, and I step onto the old platform before Katniss does, preparing to help her down. The fist that comes from my left is unexpected. And at the same time, is unusually welcomed.

I receive it, almost embrace it. My head whips to the side and my entire body goes down. It's hard enough to steady myself when Katniss launches herself into my arms and I'm knowing of it, expecting it. This connection with the closed hand is much stronger then that. And it belongs to one red-faced, coal-covered Gale Hawthorne.

Blood is in my mouth, my head feels rattled, my jaw stings a bit, and I check first to make sure all of my teeth are still intact. I don't really hurt so much, Cato slamming my skull back into rocks was much, much more painful.

Katniss is screaming at him as he towers over me, "Gale! Gale, leave him alone!"

The crowd is insane with shock, moving around us, and no one's reaching down to stop it from happening.

But it's still alright.

Katniss moves to help me and then Gale is pushing her aside, shoves her away, I see her put her hands up and back from him. Another fist meets my jaw, just one more, and it's enough to push me too far.

The first fist was welcomed, because I deserved it, this one isn't. Defense first, now attack. That's not how this works. And the adrenaline pumps through me, fire spreading through the veins, inflaming my organs. The palm against Gale's chin was long meant for Snow and Cato. And he has no choice against it. I hear his teeth click together and watch his neck bend backwards.

"Peeta," Katniss shouts now, "Stop it, you two! Stop fighting, please."

Her voice is like a sword being pulled from my leg; because it reminds me of her screams in the Arena. That's all I see when I hear her scream now, her, with her shirt torn open, and Cato's hands groping down to her pants. In my nightmares I don't see it like that; I enjoy it. But, here in reality, it's the only thing I can think of. I don't want to hear her scream like that ever again; like this.

I get up slowly, my artificial leg making it a bit difficult. I look at him as he braces his self, fists up, and then I walk away.

The strongest act of defiance against him.

Gale wants a fight, but I don't fight cowards. Cowards that hit the unsuspecting people, that hit the innocent, that beat a man while he's already down on the ground. I don't fight those kind of people. I fight the **real **monsters.

He lets me go though, and he's lucky, because my patience with him is wearing thin.

The blood that drips from my bottom lip has taken to soaking down on the collar of my white dress shirt. That's going to stain.

* * *

That night, during the dinner and celebration, Katniss has left me at my stand to find Madge. I'm alone for all of five minutes when Gale himself walks up to me. He's not drunk from the looks of it, full and satisfied, but the expression he gives me is cold and haunting. A dying man's eyes would look less troubled then his do.

I force my vision down at my papers to get away from it, shuffle through them as he clears his throat for attention.

"Yes?" I ask, my eyes going up to meet his again; despite my want to avoid, "Gale?"

He's frowning still. Other then that, I can see the anger bubbling to the surface in his eyes as he stares back, "You don't deserve her." His voice is grave, condescending, like he knows something I don't. It's deeper then mine, he's older then me, not as large or menacing as me, but that doesn't make him any less able to cause harm. Me neither, though.

"Does it bother you that much?" I ask, he scoffs in return, and I continue, "You probably think I forced her to be with me. But I didn't."

"Force," he says in a mocking tone, which I think is beneath him... Maybe he **is **drunk. "I don't think you _forced _her. I think she had no choice."

What he says bothers me more then I'd like to admit, because I've been afraid of that as well, but I shrug anyways and try not to let it get into me, "I'm sorry that I took her from you, Gale. It's not something I did intentionally. But, I may or may not deserve her, and if I don't then you definitely don't."

His nostrils flare at this, "I don't?"

I stare, dig my eyes back into his like he's been doing to me, "Katniss doesn't need to be around someone that hates so much of everything; like you do. Someone that seeks out attacks so that he can justify his actions against others. She's having a hard enough time as it is. She needs someone she can trust. Someone that doesn't destroy everything near and dear to him."

Gale straightens up and looks like he's going to punch me again, he moves forward against the stand and I see his fists ball up like a threat. It's like there's some force holding him back.

"Go ahead," I suggest, step around my stand and open my arms wide for him, "I can't stop you, Gale. I won't stop you. I'm not the enemy here. But don't expect me to–"

He hits me. He doesn't even stop to think about it. My offer wasn't to 'hit me', it was to **resist **hitting me. _You will never learn._

I'm ready for it this time though, even though I wasn't hoping for it, and it doesn't floor me. It just stings a bit.

I nod at the action and pain of it, "Yeah, I figured as much," and he looks disappointed, almost as disappointed as I am. "You're upset that I embarrassed you; so you want to embarrass me, naturally, that's to be expected. You think hitting me embarrasses me, Gale? I was in the games, broadcasted to everyone in Panem, they saw it all. I dealt with worse in there."

"A fist is a fist," he says, "Doesn't matter who it's coming from. But it makes me feel better."

"It shouldn't," I whisper softly, "And it **does **matter. It matters to Katniss."

_Confused again, Gale? Yes_. He tilts his head ever so slightly because he doesn't understand the damage that he's doing.

"I protect her," I tell him, "I protect her from people that threaten her. I don't fight away the ones she loves. I don't hurt them, attack them, or try to belittle them. She cares about you–"

"Of course she does," Gale interrupts me and I go quiet, "First. I bet that bothers **you**," then he smirks, he stays still for just a handful of seconds before he walks away. And he leaves me standing there like I left him earlier.

The crowd around us stares after him, I let him walk, let him escape, wipe the blood from my re-opened lip wound and then Katniss's mother is at my side. She grabs my elbow and pulls me back from the people and cameras.

"We need to talk."

"We do," I confirm and she walks me away from the party.

She sits me down at the drink stand, takes up some ice and a spotless white washcloth to clean my face. It's going to be red soon.

"You better treat her right," She says, stares at my cheek instead of my eyes, and pats the cold cloth gently against my face.

"You know I will."

"I do," she nods, "I can tell that you really love her, I could from the beginning, far before the Reaping. And it's healthy. Not obsessed like Gale can be some times. I can tell that your love for her comes naturally, and I also see that she loves you back."

I close my eyes and hiss as the wet cloth touches the bust in my lip finally. It's abrupt, and therefore, uninvited. But the pain dulls some; into more of an irritation.

Katniss's mother sighs, "I just don't understand why you let Gale punch on you. This is twice today–"

"It won't happen again."

She shakes her head, "Why at all though? It can't feel good. We all saw you in the games, taking down blades, and when you caught Cato up in that headlock, and when you killed him. You're fast, agile enough. You could hold your own against someone like Gale. And you're bigger then him. You're healthy."

"It's not about who's stronger, and even if it was, I wouldn't go around starting fights because I know that I'll come out the better of the two. I took her away from him," I tell her.

"I **do **feel bad about that. Granted, I'm not going to stop seeing her, stop loving her, just for him to feel better. He's not worth that much. But I made a fool of him, displaying my love in the games, making out with her in front of his family, his friends, our peers from school. He's embarrassed. So it was okay for him to hit me. It's when he goes on the attack that I won't stand for it."

"He's a very angry young man," She says softly as she puts the cloth down, "Katniss doesn't need that. I think you do good for her. I've never seen her so happy. And her eyes light up when you're around. It's like you put the warmth in."

I nod, "It's the same for me as well. She's the most important thing in my life."

Katniss's mother smiles at this, "You two are made for each other. I'm glad you're not letting Gale get in the way."

"Not after Cato," I say, "Cato tried to rape her. Gale isn't going to get anywhere if it's up to me."

"You won't trust another man around her," she confirms and stands, "That's good. If you're going to be her husband then you need to be like that."

Her husband.

* * *

Nearly a week has passed since the fight with Gale, and he's been very careful to steer clear of me. Whether it's because he doesn't want to fight, he's too busy, or he's being a coward, I don't know. I allow myself to calm down, to move on, to relax my muscles.

Katniss still sneaks over to my house, but it isn't often that she's gone before eight in the morning. Except today.

"Where are you off to?" I ask as Katniss tries to sneak from the bed like a stealthy little burglar, she stops in surprise, a deer in the headlights, and turns back to me.

"Don't be angry."

I sit up suddenly and look around the room, "Huh?"

The expression on her face is a guilty one, like she's been out drinking or gambling, and I raise my brow at her.

"Where are you going, Katniss?" I ask again.

She smiles sheepishly, "I was going to see Gale."

I nod, understanding, they have a lot to talk about. It's none of my business. My clicking jaw might disagree, but at least my mind and heart are in the right place, "Go on then, you don't want to stand him up, do you?"

Katniss turns to me bodily now, swiftly climbs onto the bed and gives me a long, sweet kiss that I feel deep down in the very bottom of my toes.

I grab the back of her head, pull her in closer, and dominate her. She moans and starts to lean in, her fingers curling in the bangs at my ears, but I break the kiss and settle back into the comforter, "Go on now or you'll be late."

"I love you," she says happily, almost in a dream state as she rises again.

"I love you."

I watch her leave the room and then burrow back down to sleep. I hope things go well.

* * *

They don't.

I lock up the house near evening and make off for the town to join a lovely, yet tense dinner with the family. Big jacket covering my frame, I stuff my un-gloved hands into the large pockets and enjoy the chilled air as it reddens the tip of my nose.

I don't make it completely out of the Victor's village when Katniss meets up with me. And I wouldn't have stopped completely in my tracks if it hadn't been for the tears I could see clearly on her cheeks.

"Katniss?"

She grabs my arm, her breathing is labored and clearly she ran here, "Can we go?"

I look around the road, see no one of course, and then raise my brows at her, "What's wrong? Go where?"

"Your house, please," she asks, "I... I need to talk to you."

I nod and, no matter how curious I am, eager and thrown off, I stay silent and trek back with her down the short path I've made in the snow. I fish out the keys from my pocket and open the door to let her in.

She's wiping her face of evidence and turns to me as I close the door behind us, "You..."

"Me?" I ask, nervous.

Katniss looks away, "You are always so gentle with me," she says, "Overly gentle."

I nod slowly, "What's your point?"

"I guess I never realized before how... How abrupt others are. You don't shock me, you surprise me. You don't push me, you nudge me. You're patient, always so patient, Peeta," she drops her hunting bag at our feet, moves to me, grabs the front of my coat and stares at her hands, "Can you call your parents? Tell them you're not going to dinner?"

"Of course," I agree unconditionally, "Are you okay?"

She smiles sadly to me and nods, "I am, I just... I'll explain afterward."

I walk past her, to the phone, and call my father. He's a little upset, but when I explain that Katniss needs me, he understands. You just don't deny a lady.

When I've hung up, I turn and Katniss is moving to me, and I can't help but smile. "So, what are we doing?"

Her hands are at the front of my jacket again and she unzips it, sneaks her fingers in, and pushes it wide open. She leans up on her toes and kisses me.

I rest my hands on her hips, feel her breathing eagerly against my cheek as she pushes me back against the counter, and then it's her fingers with their fake nails dragging over my shirt, over my nipples. She breaks the kiss, bends down beside me and lifts something from her bag.

The sound of the heavy, solid, sturdy bottle of wine surprises me as it is set down on the counter beside me, joined by a bowl prepared with dough to make bread, and she smiles.

"Now?" I ask her in surprise and satisfaction.

"Now," she confirms.

Now.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Woo, that's it fer this week, hope you lot enjoyed! Looking forward to the reviews and answers to my questions. Thank you all, I love you! /vanish

~KaKaVegeGurl


	9. Chapter 7 OPTION A: Feels Like

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option A

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**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Spent an hour today searching fer Mass Effect 1 fer the PS2 today through various different gaming stores and buyback game stores and stuff. Found none. So I guess I have to buy it online, no surprise there.

Apparently ppl don't want to sell back their copies. I know I wouldn't. XP

Also today is me and my boyf's 6 year anniversary of the day we met. ^^ So excited. And he's such a sweety he didn't mind me editing and getting this out fer you all today!

So yeah. Things are going down in the fic now, both Peetas are going very different ways, even confusing me. I need to rebuff my mind after posting this today. Gotta make sure I get nothing wrong.

If I have, I would love it if you told me!

Love all of you avid readers! Keep on trucking! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy.

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **The new question is: The main is a Male, what school clique do you want him in? Geeks, nerds, jocks, nobodys, emos?

**-Week 2: **Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? This is now closed. It's been decided that I will do a school based story starting probably from Grade 9. It will be JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Parents Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Religion, Favoritism, Teacher/Student Relationships, Popularity, Adoption, Fear of death, Ghosts, and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love...

Emily (my biggest fan): "Thank you so much, it's nice to see that my writing style is likable so much. ^^ Also, I do females REALLY well, trust me (that's what she said). I just have a tendency to want to write from a male's pov more. I'm thinking of doing more then one pov, but the main will be male. And fer yer PS: Of course I'd have to find some way to respond, right?"

Anonymous: "Yeah, it's always updated once a week. I'm surprised that you read all of that in one sitting, jeez. I remember how I was back in the day tho. I could read endlessly. XP Now I just write endlessly."

No name: "Yer very welcome. All fer you. ^_~"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

This years love had better last

Heaven knows it's high time

I've been waiting on my own, too long

When you hold me like you do

It feels so right, oh now

Start to forget how my heart gets torn

When that hurt gets thrown

Feeling like I can't go on

* * *

**Chapter 7 - What Being Whipped Feels Like

* * *

**

Watching Katniss's mother attempt to treat Gale's wounds is as painful to me as it must be to him. It's bad enough to see this happen to someone I think of more as an annoyance then a human being, but to watch my fiancé pine for him every grueling minute of it is not only overwhelming, but worrying.

It terrifies me to think of what is going through Katniss's head now. Scaring to think that maybe... Maybe I haven't been enough. Maybe she _really _wants Gale.

I leave them alone eventually, give them their peace, go home and sleep.

If there _is _something going on between them then who am I to stop it at this stage? What can I possibly do to change her mind? What kind of person would I be if I even tried to?

No, it's better to leave them alone and see if that's a possibility then to stand there all miserable, whiny and wounded, making them even more unstable then they already are. Best to wait and see if she still wants me around.

That doesn't stop me from worrying on my own though.

Nightmares full of them bother me more then anything. I know she loves him, but I've honestly never been afraid of her leaving me for Gale. Until now.

The expression she had on her face was something I'd never seen her give me. She was completely determined to be with him, and it chills me down to the bone.

It's frightful to think that I might not just be being paranoid.

I hope I'm being paranoid.

* * *

When I come to her house in the morning with bread, and set it down to wake her up, I let her go up to her room and rest. In turn, I sit and watch over Gale. His back is left exposed and clean to breathe and I stare at the creases in the torn muscle where the whip had landed.

_What does that feel like?_ My stomach twists, honestly though. _What does it feel like to be whipped? _My morbid curiosity wants to know. Is it like being smacked? Hit by a long, wooden stick? Does it eat into your toenails each time? Can you feel it everywhere? Is it at all comparable to being stabbed in the leg?

My hands in my lap, I watch him, silent, and eventually Katniss's mother pads into the room.

"Good morning, Peeta," she greets me, I nod in confirmation.

"How is he?"

She shakes her head, "He's not well. How are you?"

"Me?" I look at her in confusion, "What would be wrong with me?"

She reaches forward and pulls back the sleeve of my shirt to look at the ugly bruise on my elbow, "Haymitch told me what you did."

"Yeah," I honestly have been noticing it all night, and my arm keeps clicking at the joint. Hitting that man's jaw was like hitting a brick wall.

She touches it and I'm surprised to buckle under the pain, "does that hurt?"

Afraid to talk, in case I scream, I simply nod.

"One moment," she leaves the room for a few seconds and comes back bearing an ice pack, takes my arm and settles the cold sack of ice against my bruise.

"Thank you," I manage to get out.

She nods and sits beside me, "They will most likely come to talk to you about it."

I start at this, not having thought about that, _well, maybe I __**will **__know what being whipped feels like_, "I've been in the Arena so long, defense of Katniss still comes first."

"I understand," she says, "But the Peacekeepers don't... Now," she's silent and then she asks: "Did you hit him good for me?"

I smirk at her comment, "Yeah, I got him pretty hard in the jaw. This bruise is completely worth it."

Katniss's mother smiles as well and kisses me on the cheek, "You should go and check on her. I dare say she's been whining for you in her sleep."

_For me?_ I want to ask, but I don't. Only I know what my train of thought has been for the past few hours.

I get up to leave the room and Prim walks in, settles in my seat, and gives me a look, "Are you going to be over later tonight?"

"Do you want me to be?" I ask, smiling and bending down to look at her on eye level. This pleases her, not being looked down on, and she nods vigorously, "Don't tell me you've got another surprise for me?"

She raises her eyebrows knowingly, "Me? No."

"Uh huh," I stand back up and look at her suspiciously, "I'm onto you, kid. Don't you try and stiff me one."

Her giggles brighten my mood and I give her a quick hug before turning away, "Of course I'll be around for dinner, Prim."

I go up the stairs, feeling better thanks to that short, but innocent, conversation. It's likely that she's tried to make another cake; like mine. I've shown her how, and now she likes to surprise me every now and then with her attempts.

I enter Katniss's room quietly, her soft breathing fills my ears, and I look to the bed to see her curled up tight in the covers.

Shutting the door as silently as possible, I tiptoe to her bed and sneak under the comforter.

The second my body is down beside her, she wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me in. I can't help smiling and fold my own around her.

Going to tradition, I roll us over and kiss her awake. I start with one of her hands as I take it up, kiss her finger tips, and then press my lips to her palm. She lets out a breath and then I kiss the inside of her wrist, down her arm, and up to her shoulder.

"Mmm," she breathes now, slowly waking.

I kiss her collarbone, and am about to kiss her lips when she murmurs something that spoils everything.

Her eyebrows knit down together first and then she says: "Gale?"

I pull back, stung, and stare down at her. And even she is immediately awake with realization, the expression on her face clearing away any sign that she's just woken.

"Oh, god. Peeta," she starts.

I stand up from the bed and I... I can't even take my eyes from her, I can't even think right.

"Katniss?" I ask nervously, worried, concerned, terrified.

Her face goes red and she clutches the comforter to her frame, "It wasn't like that, I... I mean... What I mean is–"

"What do you mean, Katniss?" My voice is shaking as I move back towards the door. My fears, my paranoia are becoming real right in front of me.

"Gale," she starts, "He's so important to me. And–"

"And?" I ask, "What else?"

She bows her head, "I need some space, Peeta. I need to think about things. This... This thing with Gale, and Snow, and you. It's confusing and–"

I don't let her finish. I leave the room. I don't mean to slam the door, but that's what happens. My angry stepping down the stairs and Prim gets up to see me, maybe curious about the haste, but I move aside from her and pull my shoes and jacket on before leaving the house.

My heart is clutching to my insides so hard, the pain is shooting through me like ice. I... **I **need some space.

_Gale_, I knew I wasn't just being paranoid. I just **knew **it.

I walk the short way to my house and enter it. It's cold, empty, Katniss-less. And then I can't stand _that _either. So I put back on my jacket and wonder off to the Bakery.

I join my father there and pull the familiar apron on, take to the back and paint cakes.

"_Gale?"_

_No. No, no, no._

"_Gale?"_

My mind is a mess during the rest of the day as that's the only thing I can hear.

"_Space," "Important," "Think about things."_

"_Gale?"_

Before I know it, it's closing time. I help my brother lock it up and go back home.

As I walk through the snow, mind running over everything, a hand loops into mine and settles there. I smile. I already know who it is. And I have to struggle for a moment to hide my worries away, to keep them to myself.

"You shouldn't be out so late," I tell her.

"Neither should you."

I look down at her, smile sadly, and have to fight back tears, "Why aren't you at home?"

She shrugs, "Well, you weren't, and then I got worried."

I stop completely, take a seat on one of the benches, and she joins me.

"Why didn't you come back for dinner, you promised."

"I just had a lot on my mind."

Prim frowns and hugs close against me, "Can we make muffins?"

The smile pulls on my lips again and I look at her, "What kind of muffins, Miss Prim?"

"Blueberry?" She guesses and I stand up.

"Alright."

We walk to my house together, and Prim joins me in the kitchen for a messy, Gale-less lesson on how to make muffins.

She's never made them before, and she studies everything I do closely until they're in the oven.

"That's a lot more simple then cakes," she muses aloud and takes a seat on one of the stools against the counter.

I nod, "Sometimes I like making them more. But muffins don't need to be iced, so I don't make them as much as cakes and cookies; and cupcakes."

"Who says they don't need to be iced?" She asks.

"You don't ice muffins, Prim," I say softly.

She gets up again, presses her face to the glass of the oven to watch them bake, and says: "We should ice them."

"Okay," I agree after a pause, "I might actually have some blueberry icing. That might make more sense then chocolate."

"Peeta," she whispers against the oven still.

I stop from pulling the icing down from the cupboard above the stove, "Yeah?"

Prim pulls back then and stares up at me. "What did Katniss say that upset you?"

I look at her and it surprises me that she would know that Katniss had said anything at all. How could she have suspected that it wasn't me that had said something? I doubt Katniss even mentioned anything to her. But she had avoided the subject this long, it must've been why she'd came to visit me at the bakery in the first place. At ten o'clock, so close to midnight.

"It's complicated," I say as a weak excuse to get away from the subject, because I don't want to face it. This past hour has been great for the lack of thought on it.

"It's always complicated," Prim says, rolling her eyes at me, "Life is complicated. Adults think they can shrug everything off with that one. But I'm not slow, and I've seen lots of bad things, I think you can afford to humor me."

I have to grin at her trying to act all 'adult-like' but then, for the sake of needing it, I decide to tell her.

"There's problems between her and Gale that get in the way of us," I say at first and she doesn't look surprised, "Katniss loves him. I've known it from the beginning, so I should've seen this coming. I also know that times are hard for her right now in particular, and that she's unsure of how she feels. She has too much going on to be able to make up her mind now."

Prim shakes her head, "But that doesn't sound fair to you."

"It doesn't matter if it's fair or not," I say as I wash the messy bowl and whisk, "Katniss needs some space. I have to give it to her."

"It's still not fair," Prim continues to argue, "you two seemed serious from what I saw. She can't just suddenly decide she wants to be with Gale because he's hurt. Besides, you lost your whole leg."

I can't help chuckling at that comment, almost tears rising, and I'm not sure if it's from laughing or pain and sorrow, but I try to keep it together in front of the little girl. The last thing anyone needs to see is me breaking down.

"I did. But this didn't spawn from 'nowhere', Prim. And that's the problem." I wipe my hands dry on my apron and take it off, "The Hunger Games forced Katniss into an unusual situation and alienated her from Gale. Now her feelings are back. And I don't think it matters what we've been through together. She can't help how she feels about him."

Prim rolls her eyes, "I like you better though. You paint such pretty things."

"Is that all?"

She looks away, hiding her grin, "Yeah, that's about it."

I slink to her quickly and tug on one of her long pig tails, "That's it, huh? I just paint pretty things? Well, that's a shame. Looks like I should've lost **both **legs, seeing as they're no use."

She giggles and nods, "Yeah, they don't do anything for you."

The stove beeps and I'm at it in seconds, mitts on, and pulling out the muffins to set them on the counter.

Prim eyes them hungrily and moves to grab one but I tap her hand in warning.

"Oh, no you don't," I tell her, "These things are hot, and we still need to ice them."

She looks so excited and sits up higher, "Really? You were serious? We can ice them?"

"Of course I was serious," I say, taking off the oven mitts, "You think I'd stiff you?" She shakes her head and we sit together at the counter.

I take my sketch book in arm and draw her as she waits.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"Being mysterious," I mumble as I'm careful to make her pigtails long and curled.

Impatiently she finally gets up and grabs my arm to see over my shoulder at the sketch book. She gasps in surprise, takes the drawing from me, and then she says: "That's me."

I nod and then turn to the muffins, "I think they're cold enough now."

Together we ice all of them with the blueberry icing and I pack some for her to take over to Katniss's house. I help her into her jacket seeing as it's far past time for her to go home. If her mother's not worried yet then she will be soon enough.

Prim walks up and hugs me tightly around the waist, "Thank you, Peeta."

I hug back and thank her as well. I watch her leave out of the door and it's not two minutes into cleaning that there's a sharp knock.

With the counter cleaned away and the muffins in the refrigerator, I move to it and open the door to see three Peacekeepers standing there in their brand new, spotlessly white uniforms. My stomach clutches in anticipation and I let my hands drop to my sides.

"Peeta Mellark," one of them says, an unknown face entirely to me, and his eyes are cold as he stares directly forward, "You're to come with us."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Thank you all so much fer reading! See you next tuesday! Review?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	10. Chapter 7 OPTION B: Pain You Need

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note (Repeated from Opt A):**

Spent an hour today searching fer Mass Effect 1 fer the PS2 today through various different gaming stores and buyback game stores and stuff. Found none. So I guess I have to buy it online, no surprise there.

Apparently ppl don't want to sell back their copies. I know I wouldn't. XP

Also today is me and my boyf's 6 year anniversary of the day we met. ^^ So excited. And he's such a sweety he didn't mind me editing and getting this out fer you all today!

So yeah. Things are going down in the fic now, both Peetas are going very different ways, even confusing me. I need to rebuff my mind after posting this today. Gotta make sure I get nothing wrong.

If I have, I would love it if you told me!

Love all of you avid readers! Keep on trucking! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy.

~KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **The new question is: The main is a Male, what school clique do you want him in? Geeks, nerds, jocks, nobodys, emos?

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? This is now closed. It's been decided that I will do a school based story starting probably from Grade 9. It will be JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Parents Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Religion, Favoritism, Teacher/Student Relationships, Popularity, Adoption, Fear of death, Ghosts, and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love...

Emily (my biggest fan): "Thank you so much, it's nice to see that my writing style is likable so much. ^^ Also, I do females REALLY well, trust me (that's what she said). I just have a tendency to want to write from a male's pov more. I'm thinking of doing more then one pov, but the main will be male. And fer yer PS: Of course I'd have to find some way to respond, right?"

Anonymous: "Yeah, it's always updated once a week. I'm surprised that you read all of that in one sitting, jeez. I remember how I was back in the day tho. I could read endlessly. XP Now I just write endlessly."

No name: "Yer very welcome. All fer you. ^_~"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

She was unstoppable

Moved fast as like an avalanche

But now she's stuck deep in some man

Wishing that they never ever met

She could be a statue of liberty

She could be a Joan of Arc

But he's scared of the light that's inside of her

So he keeps her in the dark

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Pain You Need To Feel

* * *

**

Katniss watches me as I whittle the fire into life, the practice from the arena has it's uses even now. I was always good at coaxing a good fire out of wood.

Her eyes, grey and concentrating, are full of impatience as she watches the fire grow. Her hands pat together for warmth and it's an amusing thought. Making a fire in the middle of snow.

We toast the bread finally, break it into two large pieces, and share it.

And as we marry, our chatter is deeper then expected as we tell each other things we don't normally talk about. In the safety of our fire and the absence of others, the binding happening between us, I can tell that both of us expect this tradition to be stronger then most.

She tells me about her plans to run away from District 12, her plan to get our families away safely. To protect Prim and me. And then she tells me what happened with Gale this morning.

* * *

"I never thought I could react the way I did," she says softly as she stares into the still burning fire as she sips her wine, "Not to anyone, let alone Gale."

I watch her, and when she doesn't say anything, I ask in concern: "What was it about him that got to you?"

She shakes her head at first, "I almost can't think about it, Peeta. That's how bad it is." But then she amends, "Just the... The look in his eyes, the way he stared at me, and the way he threw the gloves. It was all I could think about."

"What?" I move to her to comfort, "what was all you could think about?"

"His hands on me," Katniss lowers her eyes to her feet nervously, "When he touched me I felt like I wanted to die."

My eyes widen and I take her face calmly to make her look at me, "Katniss," I can barely say as my chest clutches in fear, "tell me that Gale didn't... He didn't force you, did he?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to strike humor, as they filled with tears, "Of course he didn't, Peeta. But it would've been no different if he did," her voice cracks, "I saw Cato in him. Standing there, glaring at me, throwing the gloves back at me. That was all I could see. And when I backed away and started crying–" She was crying _now_.

I wipe her tears away with my thumb and kiss her.

"I don't even know why. He didn't hurt me physically, he didn't say anything too terrible," she sobs and pulls me into a hug, "There's no reason at all for it, but I relived all of it. Being punched and thrown down, and held down and I... I just felt his hands trying to touch me, the dirt on them and I–"

I wrap my arms tightly around her and kiss her ear as she cries into my chest. I don't know what to say, so I stay quiet and let her cry, rub my hand down her back and try to be as supportive as possible.

She pulls out of the hug finally and wipes her tears away, "I'm sorry, I'm being whiny and stupid about it. I can look at you, though. I was staring at you while he was trying to rape me and... And that doesn't bother me. In your eyes," she looks at me, "I feel safe, and warm, and... I feel like you would never make me feel like I did when he yelled at me."

"I love you, Katniss," I tell her, kiss her lips gently, "I'm sorry, I wish I could... have been with you, or stopped you from going. He shouldn't have acted like that, not after what you've went through with Cato. He should've known better."

She's calmed down and curled close against me. I lift her up into my arms and walk home with her.

That night I lay in bed with her still held tight in my arms, she falls instantly asleep with the dry tears still on her cheeks, exhausted from crying, and probably overly comforted by the warmth from my body.

And I don't sleep at all.

* * *

Morning comes and the first thing I hear is fervent knocking at the door. I'm awake immediately and shift so that I don't wake Katniss. I pull on a shirt and struggle with pants over my artificial leg and then pad out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and to the front door; which is locked of course. I look out and see that it's Haymitch; which is odd enough, because at about this time he would be passed out from booze.

I open the door and let him in, the worried expression on his face bothers me as he shuffles off the snow from his shoulders and takes a seat at the counter.

"Got any spirit?" He asks first.

I pull up a bottle I've had stowed away for him and set it on the counter with a glass before moving to the stove and starting it up.

"What's got you over this early?" I ask and then note the bruise on his jaw, "You fall again?"

He takes a large gulp from the bottle before pouring it in the glass, "Is Katniss here?"

"Naturally. Why are _you_?"

"Gale," he says and my shoulders tense at the name, "was strung up in the square yesterday and lashed. We couldn't find either of you afterward though."

I stop my movements completely from the bowl and whisk in my hands and turn to look at him, "Lashed?" I ask. Surely I've heard that wrong.

His eyes are dark and he nods, "Lashed. Lashed until all that was left was a slab of meat."

I swallow and stare at his glass, "Is... Is Gale okay?"

Haymitch looks at me gravely. And my blood turns into ice.

"Is he _alive_?" I clarify and then Haymitch blinks, shakes his head. **Shakes **his head. Not 'nods', **shakes**.

"You're kidding me," I move to him, "Haymitch, please tell me... You're joking?"

He shakes his head again.

I watch him gulp down the full glass and stare at it as he swallows, "I wish I could joke like that, Peeta. But you and I both know better."

My hands are shaking violently and I turn away as saliva rushes in my mouth. "What happened?" I manage out as the air starts to leave my lungs.

"We have a new Head Peacekeeper, apparently, and he caught Gale." Haymitch said and downed another glass, "Strung him up in front of everyone, lashed him until he was unconscious, and then kept lashing until he hit bone."

I gulped and had to cover my mouth, "Bone?"

Haymitch was about to get up when I heard the soft little feet of Katniss's slapping over the wooden flooring of my kitchen as she joined us in the room.

When I turn to her the queasy feeling takes over and I clutch the sink, bow my head, and whisper: "Morning, Katniss."

Her hand touches my shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"Katniss," Haymitch says gently, he may not be completely sober, but he's sensitive enough at the moment, "There's been an accident."

Her tiny hand grasps my left biceps and I turn my body to look at her. But I can tell from the look she's giving me that she already knows.

Katniss looks at Haymitch, "Gale's dead, isn't he?" She asks.

Haymitch is somewhat taken aback, but he nods none-the-less, "Yes."

"Oh," Her voice coming out was probably a scream that she held back with what little strength she has left inside, so that now it sounds more like the soft whimper from a dying kitten. Her beautiful gray eyes go up to look into mine as they brim and fill over with tears. Her lips quiver, the chin moves up to compensate the emotion and pain she's feeling as she, instead of screaming and yelling and asking "how?", "why?", "Gale, how could you?"; she just cries silently.

I've had to watch this twice now, twice in two days. Crying that he reminded her of Cato, now crying that he's dead. And surprised enough... I understand it completely.

Because all in all, when it really comes down to it, she did love him. She really loved him. And now the last thing she'll remember of him is Gale hurting her, scaring her, becoming Cato to her. This is something no one should ever have to endure: To see someone they love be something they're not and never have the chance to redeem himself.

And it's happening to my wife.

I put my hand on her shoulder, and this time I don't comfort her, I don't hold her close. I know she won't want it just yet but I let her know that I'm here.

"What do you want to do, Katniss?" I ask.

Haymitch lowers his eyes, takes the booze, and leaves my house without another word. He probably feels bad enough as it is. He doesn't need to see Katniss fall to pieces, I can take care of that. And he knows it.

Katniss watches him go before she whispers out: "We can't leave, Peeta. We can't run away now. Not after–"

I nod, "I know." Because that had occurred to me already, "We don't run, then what do we do?"

"I guess..." she pauses, looks at me, and the tears start coming down again, soundless little tears that cause more harm to me then they should. "I guess now... We bury him."

And this... Makes _me _cry.

It's the first time I think that I've ever cried in front of her since the arena, isn't it well deserved? She's breaking my heart.

Her hands reach up, surprising me as they grasp at the back of my head, the back of my neck, and in the soft, short hair there. Then she pulls me down and crushes her lips against mine.

It's heated, desperate, rough even. I clutch her close to me, devour her, hear her gasp and whimper in surprise at how harsh the action is. But she doesn't back away in terror like I should be afraid she will, she wants for more instead. Her arms are pulling me in against her and I'm lost in the need of it.

It feels wrong. So wrong, to be doing this when she's just found out he's dead. Like she's cheating on him. Even though she's **my wife**, it feels wrong.

And just like that, like a light clicking on in my head, I know why it feels wrong. She's wanting to use me as an escape from this pain. She wants to blur it out, and then... _I'm the rebound guy_.

I pull away, stand up, and back from her, the disgust makes my mouth taste like mold.

She's sitting on the ground still, knees bent, and moves up to rest her elbows on her legs. She looks at me and runs her hand through her bangs. She feels just as dirty as I do. And she should. When I've been in bed with her, pleasured her, kissed her, I never felt like this.

It's wrong. What she's just done to me is wrong.

And I tell her just that.

"I'm not going to dull your ache for him, Katniss," I say, staring at her and her eyes meet mine, ashamed, "It's a pain you _need _to feel. You'll want to have it later."

She nods silently as the fresh tears spill down her cheeks. I don't think it's me that's made her cry this time, and not even Gale. She made herself cry.

"Who am I to you?" I ask her.

"My husband," she whispers, "I know that, Peeta. I'm sorry."

"I know," I say at first, and then I add on: "I am too. But you can't have me like that. Until this is over. I don't want to..."

I stop, the words clutch in my throat, and then I find the voice I don't use on anyone. "I," pain licks me, embarrassment, I almost feel harassed by what she's done, trying to–"I don't want to **fuck **you while you're mourning over him!"

The word is dirty. Completely dirty. 'Fuck'. I would never refer to making love to her as such a filthy, emotionless thing. But I need to stress to her what _she's _thinking of it as. She just wants me to be some quick thing, some forgetting, mind-blowing sex? I'm her husband. Not just a good lay. Not a rebound guy.

I walk to the wall nearby and press my forehead against it as my breathing comes down.

"I'm sorry," I hear her say from her spot on the kitchen floor.

She gets up and walks to me, her gentle hand touches the small of my back and I turn again to look at her.

"No," I whisper, bow my head, "I..."

She kisses, up on the tips of her toes, and hugs me. She's not afraid or startled by my yelling, my angry words. Instead, she is empathizing. She knows she's done wrong. And I'm reasonably upset.

It's bittersweet. Everything is now. That we go to marry yesterday, and then this happens. And now we both feel like we've killed him.

"It's not our fault," she says.

I nod slowly.

"It's not our fault, Peeta," she repeats.

"It's not _your _fault," I point out to her but she just shakes her head.

We both are silent, clutching at each other in support, I lay gentle kisses on her forehead, her brow, her ears, and then she asks: "How did he die?" Because she's still thinking about him. That's okay though, he deserves a little bit of her for now. It's the least I can do.

"He was whipped to death," I say and I see her flinch at the thought of the harshness of it, "We have a new Head Peacekeeper now."

"No more Cray?"

"No more Cray," I say, "Instead we have this new man that has already killed your best friend. And he's only just arrived."

Her eyes look up into mine and I can see her anger at this thought.

"What are we going to do?" I ask now.

She blinks and looks down, "We bury him."

At first, I think she means Gale again. Reasonable enough, right? I think she means Gale...

But she doesn't.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

O.o Reviews? *vanish*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	11. Chapter 8 OPTION A: Punished

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option A

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

My goodness!

I haven't seen so much feedback about my questions until now. Lemme go through them slowly.

**Jonasfabulous** wants him to be emo. But I can't rly stand emos. And it'd be pretty depressing to read from that perspective, but uh... Little later down on that. (Btw, totally psyched that I made you cry. O.o /apologize)

**TheMockingjay111** says make him a nobody that sits alone and no one notices him until some major plot twist or turn of events. Also to not need ppl's pity, etc. I REALLY like this idea. So more on that too.

**Emily**, my number one fan, wanted something more or less similar. But a jock that doesn't feel like he belongs? More on that below as well.

**Kamil the Awesome**, who I think hates this fanfic, suggests semi-athletic, a little creative, and not retarded. Lawl. More on that as well.

And finally, **survivalx7**, who reviewed just in time to get in my a/n (XP) says: A smart guy, who everyone likes but is not friends with because he's very introverted. Has a major, secret depression. The one person that knows of it is his bff.

So...

**Are you lot ready to see what you created?**

He has no name yet, but I've been pondering this character fer a few weeks. Who's the star? Who has it right? This is what I've got...

Taking from **Jonasfabulous**, the emo/depressed thing fits with **survivalx7**'s suggestion. So there WILL be that. I like the idea of him keeping it in, so you will all get a kick from reading out of his interesting perspective.

**TheMockingjay111**'s idea will happen in a VERY different way then you expect, but that's kinda what I'm going fer.

_Noname_, as we'll call him fer now, will be a nobody at his old school, where his bff lives; the only one that knows of his depression. And then he's forced to move... To the biggest school in their country. And THEN he becomes popular. This is where he shines, as a "depressed jock". Naturally, feeling like he doesn't belong.

_Noname _will be smarter then yer average bear, not a total whiz-brain, but I'm thinking 4.0gpa at least. He will be athletic, decent with combat, and creative. He will come at life from all sides, and therefore... Not really fit in anywhere.

The overall of the story is this: Not entirely Earth, not really aliens, a bit far along in the future (fer interests sake, I'd get bored writing average tech of this age, I'm going fer something more... Ender's Game, more Uglies, more... Third Earth Pendragon ). Evolved humans, farther along then ours.

I will keep with the "school theme" and the "topics" theme. There will be a second a/n part on Option B's chapter 8. But I'll stop here on this one, getting WAY too long. So continue over there fer more.

On the real a/n, I want to thank all of you fer the MILLIONTH time fer being so supportive and adoring and awesome, reviewing, reading, drooling, pining, fer this fanfic (Especially **IloveHungerGames**, who reviewed within like... 45 mins of the chapters being put up last week? Like... Holy shit). I just fucking love you all. So, HUGE HUG. I'd totally sex you all, but that would be weird. How 'bout I just write more chapters? Is that okay? ^_~

So, thank you all so, so, so much! Please stay strong and keep on reading! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week:** The new question is: Should he (noname) be tall?

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 10: "I do too. Rly need to get out. Thank you very much fer the support, I will continue to try and amaze you."

Emily (still my biggest fan): "Heh, oh now /blush. Make me feel like some celebrity or something. O.o I'm trying to keep everyone guessing, while fulfilling wishes. Makes things difficult, especially since I have too much of a life, and not nearly as much time to commit to these chapters as I would like. Response to yer clique suggestion in the above a/n. Thank you much! Love the love!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,

Or tell you that.

But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it

where's the sense in that?

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder

Or return to where we were

I will go down with this ship

And I won't put my hands up and surrender

There will be no white flag above my door

I'm in love and always will be

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Punished

* * *

**

Thread, the new Peacekeeper, pats his pen patiently against a clipboard and stares at me coldly.

I smile back as best I can, wrists zipped together with ties, and wait for him to talk first.

His jaw, swollen still from my punch, must smart and pull when he talks because it looks like he's sneering, "I don't know what to do with you first, Peeta Mellark," he says.

Waiting still, I stare back with my jaw set, "I'm sure you'll do whatever you want to do, despite my arguments or protests, or standing reason for past actions."

He smiles, I think, it still looks like an ugly little sneer to me.

"Yes," He says, "Well, you and your little _girlfriend _have surely gotten in the way. I think what I do now has to set a sort of... _lasting impression_."

My eyes follow him as he stands, clipboard in hands, and observes mine. My hands, I mean. The stare he gives them is both cold and calculating. The very way that Cato stared me up when I asked to join the Careers. The same way Snow stares at Katniss. Not a good stare at all.

"You..." He pauses for an intense moment as he watches me, wanting me to be nervous, to hang on his every word, "You're a painter?"

I shift uncomfortably at that gaze, but refuse to look away, "Yes."

The smile now is more twisted then before, like a snarl, or some kind of painful grimace, "I thought so," his tone is dark, promising, "Alright, come with me."

I stand abruptly and follow him out of the room. He leads me down through the hallway and into a white room. It's clean, sterile smelling, and I'm seated beside a tray of... Instruments. Medical instruments, clean and gleaming against the bright lights on the roof. My stomach lurches in fear.

_What is he planning on doing to me?_

He calls in a second person, a doctor of sorts, dressed in a white coat. And then Thread whispers something into the man's ear.

Their eyes go to the tray beside me and the 'doctor-of-sorts' shakes his head, points to the wall. Thread nods.

And then he moves to me and smiles, "We're not going to do anything to you," he says and I start to calm before he finishes the sentence, "Not physically. But you need to be taught some kind of lesson. Don't you?"

I'm about to say something back; I'm not sure what, a retort of some kind? Agreement? But I don't get the chance.

Thread steps away and stands before the door, then stares at me patiently.

The doctor, who's been watching us, gets up and walks to the wall. He rubs his thumb over a depression in the wall and it slides away to reveal an opening. Inside are more of these clean, sharp, new-looking medical instruments and he picks up one of them.

They all look like tweezers or something to me, different sizes and lengths. And they don't pose a threat until you know that's what they're meant to do. The one he brings to me has a sort of curl on one of the ends of the tweezers, thin and twisted. The doctor holds it to my ear.

I know of these kinds of tools, that back before they were manipulated and painted, programmed, could be paralyzing. But I also know that, since then, they have been perfected.

He smiles sadly and says in a soft, grand fatherly voice: "Take one deep breath."

I do, and when I'm in the middle of pulling air in, he flicks the tool.

The pain is immediate. Not in my head, or in my chest. But in my hands. The burning, freezing, stinging, breaking of bones that fills my senses puts my entire body on complete alarm. It's as though someone is jamming magma hot, scalding needles into the joints of my hands. The knuckles ache and scream.

But then I realize that it's not the bones screaming, or my fingers, it's me.

I'm balling them into fists, tears in my eyes, then scratching at them like I have some kind of itch. But when I scratch down the length of my palm it feels like the very bones inside are broken. Like the spaces between each knuckle are being ripped and separated.

My sudden instinct is to stop of course, movements in them hurt, touching them, squeezing them, itching them hurts.

I put them down on my legs and stare at them as the pain blares out any other thought then to not move them. Then I look up to Thread.

The smile on his face is wounding and he moves, opens the door and makes a motion as if telling me to leave, "Go on, now. I hope you've learned your lesson, Peeta."

I imagine myself getting up, walking to him, and slamming my elbow into his jaw again. A few times even. But I don't.

This is a Peacekeeper, a real one. And not just any Peacekeeper, the Head Peacekeeper. Fighting against him will only get me killed. And my hands are bad enough. If scratching at them stings like this, what will hitting him do?

I swallow as he cuts away the tie on my wrists, pain stinging through my fingers. Then I stand and leave the room.

* * *

When I get home, the pain has dulled to more of a fatigued, muscle ache. But I'm so turned off from it that I can't do anything.

I move to get my keys and the sting/fire/ice/breaking hits. I can't even pull them from my pocket. I can't even get inside my own house. I sit instead, on the steps, and stare through the snow at Katniss's house. And I do nothing.

When the pain dulls, I try again. And the mix of sharp, mental abuse is back.

This time, however, I fight against it. Manage to get the keys from my pocket, stumbling to find the right one as my hands shake in pain and the keys fall into the snow.

A door closing startles me and I turn to see Katniss walking to me.

"Peeta," she says.

I turn the rest of my body her way, trying to hide the keys under my boot, "Katniss."

She pulls me into a hug, "I need to talk to you."

"Alright," I say, the nervousness coming out strongly in my tone, and I can't hug back because of the strong pains shooting through my hands, "What about?"

Suddenly, she pulls away and looks at me skeptically, she stares for a moment and then looks down at my shifting feet, "What's wrong with you?"

"N-Nothing," I say as I try to back up but hit the door, and she reaches down to pick up the keys now covered in sloshed, wet snow. Obviously I hadn't hidden them enough.

"Peeta?" She asks and she looks to my shaking hands, "Are you okay?"

I move out of the way, "Can you open the door for me, Katniss?"

She nods uncertainly, moves to get around me and unlocks the house, turns the knob and we walk in. She makes it look so simple.

I shuffle off my boots with my feet and just slouch my shoulders to get my jacket off. Then I move to the counter and take a seat, trying best to use my hands as little as possible.

Katniss, watching me the entire time, comes to my side and sets down the keys, "What did they do to you?"

"It's nothing," I say at first, but I know her, she's too stubborn to take just that, "Just some kind of mental thing. My hands hurt, that's all."

"Hurt?" She asks in surprise, "You're hands are _shaking_," she moves to take them up in her own and I can' stop the scream erupting through my throat at the pain from her touch.

I pull them out of her grasp, tears on my cheeks, and my arms are shaking so violently that I stand up to get away.

Now she's more afraid then she was before.

"Peeta?" She gets up as well, moving to grab my hands again, and I yank them back just as the tips of hers reach mine.

The pain doubles me over and I can feel it down in the soles of my feet.

Katniss is hysterical at this point, "Peeta? Oh, oh god. I'm sorry, I–Peeta–"

"Katniss," I manage through my teeth, "Don't touch me, please."

She backs away and stands still, I can tell she doesn't want to, but she's strong enough. She keeps herself relatively calm, struggling herself back from running to my aid.

I stay still as well, body curled, knees on the floor as the pain ebbs away. It doesn't go completely, but it _does _lessen. Finally, in more control, I stand up and am about to wipe my tears away. But I stop; knowing the pain it'll cause.

Katniss moves forward, takes my face in her hands, and wipes them away herself. She looks like she's going to cry but she doesn't.

"What did they do?"

"Punishment for hitting Thread in the face," I mutter as I press my cheek to her palm, enjoying the touch, "It's some sort of sound trigger, in the mind. I–I can't do anything with my hands right now. It hurts, and I–"

"Oh," she says sadly, "I'm so sorry, Peeta. I didn't mean to touch them, it's just reflex. I wasn't even thinking."

I nod in understanding, move my face forward and press my lips to her's. She stills against me and I stop and pull away, having forgotten the argument yesterday, "I–"

"It's okay," she says, but she looks down in shame, "Peeta," she sighs, "I'm sorry about what I did, with you."

A sudden chill spills down my spine and I stop everything to stare at her, "What you did? What do you mean?"

"I wasn't sure of... any of my feelings," she sighs and looks into my eyes, her soft gray ones filled with a sort of sadness and then she says: "I'm in love with Gale."

I nod, "I know–"

"No, Peeta," she whispers, "I'm really in love with Gale. I–Can we be frien–"

"Friends!" I ask and back up from her, stare at her in shock. My entire body starts to feel increasingly numb, "You want us to be friends? You and me? After... after–" _mind-blowing sex? Repeated mind-blowing sex?_ "After _everything_?" I can only think of the kindness, when she pressed her lips to the sensitive skin that joined my thigh and artificial leg. Where's that gone?

She looks guilty, "Just please, please Peeta. I'm sorry, I... Please."

I calm my breathing and sigh, "Katniss," I look up at her and then I move, grab her, despite the ache in my hands. I crush my lips to hers. Her body tenses again and I pull away.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," I say softly, move to the door and open it. The fingers of my left hand flare at the cold metal of the door handle but I hold onto it anyways, "Leave, please."

She looks across the short span of distance I've set between us sadly, I can tell she wants to apologize, but she already has as far as I'm concerned. And I haven't forgiven her.

She stares, stares so sadly, like I've broken her. I feel bad, but it's mostly because of what she's done to me, not what I'm doing to her now.

Then she leaves.

And I'm still as miserable, as disappointed as before. Nothing has changed, nothing except that I can't pretend that somewhere inside of her she still wants to be with me more, more then Gale. The affirmation of her words before are all I need to plate the shell of pain around my heart with steel bars.

I climb up the stairs, strip down from my soggy shirt and pants, grimacing in pain as the shocks shoot through my fingers, wrists, elbows. I slide under the cold covers naked and fall asleep with my arms stretched out over the side of the bed, not touching a thing.

It takes a long time after that to fall asleep as little pains cause my body to shudder. But I do.

* * *

When I wake in the morning, the blizzard outside deadens my mood and I go back to sleep. I wake up a second time, close to six at night, but I just go to sleep again.

And it's more-or-less like this for the next week or two. I don't keep track of days passing much, I sleep most of the time, go down to eat only when I really feel like it. The pain in my fingers dies away, but I can't stop what they've done to the thoughts of painting.

Every time I try to pick up a brush, I'm so afraid of that... that pain. That intense burning, that I have to put it back down because my hands are shaking so badly. Eventually though, even this goes away, but I still have that fear lingering in my mind. That just one time, some time, (if I try to forget about it) that I'll reach down to pick up the brush and it will be back.

Whatever they've done to me, it can't be similar at all to what being whipped is like. I can't tell if it's worse or not, but I don't like it either way.

And, just like the pain going away, my curiosity for being whipped fades.

Katniss doesn't come over, doesn't visit, but Prim does.

She comes walking in from time to time with Buttercup stretched out long ways in her arms. And we sit together making pastries, cookies, cakes, and muffins. She knows, better then I would imagine, not to talk about Katniss too much.

It's mostly, "Katniss is alright," "She seems sad," "She hasn't been around Gale as much as you'd expect," "She misses you." Subtle hints here and there to let me know that she's okay. And I hate to admit it, but I breathe a little easier every time I'm given just a bit of that confirmation.

But then she comes over today and tells me something I don't expect.

It starts with her walking in and smiling, "Your hair is getting too long." Which is something that I _do _expect.

I raise my brow, "Is it?" I haven't looked into a mirror in ages.

She nods and takes to the counter, setting down a bag of pink mix, "Peacekeepers came over yesterday," she says.

"Peacekeepers?"

"Looking for Katniss," Prim says softly, grabs milk from the fridge and pulls down a mixing bowl, "Katniss, who wasn't home. And was out somewhere."

I sit beside her, hand her a whisk from one of the drawers, "She didn't get in trouble, did she?" My fear is something gaining, that Katniss will be punished like I've been, but I have to reassure myself that she didn't hit Head Peacekeeper Thread.

Prim shakes her had, "No, just got talked to, really. I think they thought she was outside the fence." She looks at me knowingly, telling me with her eyes that she thinks Katniss was _too_.

"She wasn't though?" I ask.

"I don't know," she keeps the knowing look and then says: "But Katniss fell, and got hurt. Her ankle's a bit swollen, she also fell on her butt, which bruised her tail bone I guess. So she's been bed ridden."

Katniss? Fall? That doesn't sound right at all. Okay, so people fall all the time. And can be clumsy, we're all allowed that much incompetence, right? I could easily see her falling. She's fallen before. But it doesn't sound... Plausible?

I'll admit, I'm concerned for her. I want to go and check on her. But that's not entirely my job anymore, is it?

"She's pretty miserable," Prim says softly, reaching out to touch my hand as if she can hear my thoughts. I can't stop the flinch, afraid for the sting that will come, and then I'm comforted when it doesn't.

"She's miserable?" I can't help but scoff.

"Peeta," Prim looks at me sternly, "Katniss misses you. I know you miss her too."

I shrug and pull my hand away, "It's not as simple as that, Prim. It's... It's really complicated. It's hard to explain."

"What makes it hard to explain?" Prim asks, looking annoyed now. She's grown up enough, she's seen people die, had her sister thrown into the games. And been forced to watch the kids in them over time, fight to the death.

Which is worse to expose a young girl to? Violence, or sex?

I take the seat beside her and give her a knowing look, "I can't be Katniss's friend. I can't watch her around Gale, Prim, that's just how it is."

"She's not happy with him," Prim says, "I know she's not. But if you're there–"

"I can't be her _friend_, Prim," I raise my voice.

She stands up and her eyes fill with tears, "Why not? You make her happy. It's as simple as that. She needs you."

"Because," I start, "I had _sex _with her."

Prim's back straightens in surprise and she stares at me like she's accidentally swallowed a cough drop, her 'innocent' eyes growing wide, and then she mutters: "Oh."

I can't help but chuckle at that, "Yeah, that's what I said too."

A grin spreads over Prim's face then, "Well, just go do that, that should make her happy–"

I smack my hand over her mouth and pull her into my arms, "Don't you _even _start, little duck. You'll be a second Haymitch if you begin down that path."

She's giggling against me as I start to tickle her, getting just on her side and knee, and she struggles to fight me off.

"Stop," she gasps in between laughing, "Peeta, stop."

I do, set her down on her chair and smile, she **is **kind of getting too old for tickling. But I can't help feeling like I've missed that stage of her life forever. I have to get my tickles in now or I'll never have them.

Or maybe, maybe she never had it.

I prop my head up in my left hand on the counter and stare at her, "Did Katniss ever tickle you? When you were younger?"

Prim nods, "Some times she'd do it to get me out of bed. I'm really ticklish on the bottom of my feet."

"Are you?" I grin mischievously.

"Don't you get any ideas," she says, "Or I'll wear shoes to sleep."

I bark a laugh and nod, "Alright," and then I feel the need to investigate a little, "How often has Gale been coming around?"

Prim grins as she finishes the... whatever she's making, "He comes over for treatment to his back and Katniss avoids him now. She's been avoiding him for days."

"She has?" I ask, hope filling me.

"She really avoids everyone," Prim says softly, "I haven't told you yet, but I hear her crying. All of the time when she goes to sleep."

I frown at this and watch her ministrations, "If she wants me back, she'll come over herself."

"You don't believe that," Prim scolds me knowingly, "You are both being so stubborn. And you, yourself, are hurt by her. So you think she should come make it up."

I nod, unable to disagree, she _is _right after all.

"You both need each other," she says, "Katniss is miserable, you're turning into a hermit. Someone has to talk."

"Alright," I say, standing to help her shape her dough into little pink balls to sit on the cookie sheet that she's pulled out from under the stove, "I'll go and see her after the announcement of the Quarter Quell. We'll both be mentors this year, so that's a good enough excuse. Right?"

Prim grins so widely that the smile reaches not just her eyes, but her eye_brows_ as well, "Yes. That sounds good enough."

I put the sheet into the oven as she watches from the stool, "Always glad to help a lady."

"That's such an old word," she says, and I can almost _hear _her rolling her eyes.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Thank you all, do review! Love to hear from you all, always. Negative, or positive. If yer shy, send me a note.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	12. Chapter 8 OPTION B: Buried

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Cont'd from chapter 8, Option A..._

I don't want to do some **complete **sci fi thing. But I'm interested in seeing what I can do with my own free range of things. Making a world that is similar to ours, but not completely. I struggled with what to do with it in the first place. But I've got some kind of middle.

Maybe in the next two chapters I'll have some content written to give you an idea...

Also, one of the next questions will be about his name. Don't go answering now, but allow yerselves to think over a name or two fer me. Give it time. But I'm going fer something not common, but not uncommon. Like... (none of these of course, but to give you an idea) Tristen, Miles, Oliver... You know, unique, but not uncommon completely. Different though. It has to be special, right?

Alright I'll let you all get to reading, my boyf wants to watch Dollhouse. XP (Oh and I just finished the first three books of Uglies, gotta say... It made me cry. Zane is love, he makes me "bubbly")

Thank you all! Luv, luv, luv, luv! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

_... Hope I didn't ferget anything._

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

** -Current Week:** The new question is: Should he (noname) be tall?

** -Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.  
**-Week 2: **Gender of the Main Character? Male.  
** -Week 1: **Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 10: "I do too. Rly need to get out. Thank you very much fer the support, I will continue to try and amaze you."  
Emily (still my biggest fan): "Heh, oh now /blush. Make me feel like some celebrity or something. O.o I'm trying to keep everyone guessing, while fulfilling wishes. Makes things difficult, especially since I have too much of a life, and not nearly as much time to commit to these chapters as I would like. Response to yer clique suggestion in the above a/n. Thank you much! Love the love!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Today's the day I pray that we make it through

Make it through the fall; make it through it all

And I don't wanna fall to pieces

I just want to sit and stare at you

I don't want to talk about it and I don't want a conversation

I just want to cry in front of you

I don't want to talk about it cuz I'm in love with you

You're the only one I'd be with til the end

When I come undone you bring me back again

Back under the stars; back into your arms

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Buried

* * *

**

There's an awfully big elephant in the room.

I tug the tie loose, part of my slim black uniform, it feels like a noose around my neck.

Katniss and I were two of the best dressed, not twenty minutes ago, for a burial.

'Filthy' was the feeling I that had most of the time during it, watching others cry and mourn the loss, Hazelle and her children; Gale's younger brothers. Katniss's mother and Prim. Various friends from school, kids I hardly new, even my family came.

Katniss, herself, didn't cry once. She kept her head down and suffered in silence, much like me, but for an entirely different reason.

She was sad, I wasn't.

I can't pretend that I was completely upset over his death, maybe that makes me a bad person, but that's honestly how I feel. I'm upset, how he died was wrong, but I didn't know the guy nearly as much as those people did.

A loss of life is always a tragedy. And it hurt Katniss deeply. But I wasn't a sobbing wreck. Depressed, for the moment, but I would move on much faster then anyone at the burial. And that was why my head was bowed.

I felt ashamed for not feeling as bad as everyone else did.

Even then, I couldn't stop thinking about our short arguments, the punches thrown, my apologies. I had expected him to stick around forever. It's outrageous, when you think about it, how short-lived this adversary had been.

From what I've heard, the whipping didn't actually hit bone. What really killed Gale was the blood loss. By the time they got him to Katniss's mother it was too late.

Gale had bled out in front of the people packed into the square; and the only person that had tried to save him was Haymitch. And where were Katniss and I? Getting married.

Haymitch, himself, cut Gale down from the pole. And carried him to Katniss's house alone.

By the time Katniss and I had gotten home, he had checked for us three times. And he didn't check again until the next morning.

The Head Peacekeeper that had whipped Gale didn't even dare to show his ugly face at the burial. And in the sleet, I walked Katniss home.

A part of me is surprised she didn't go with her mother and Prim. Instead, it leaves us here.

* * *

I rip the slicked, wet tie from my neck completely then and set it on the counter. Water drips from my outfit and my hair, I can feel it on my cheeks as well.

Katniss sits on one of the stools in her wet black dress, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her long hair in it's soaking wet braid.

The silence eats through us as I dress down, take the slim black coat from my shoulder, and untie my shoes. I remove them all and then I leave the room.

I dress into a pair of dry boxers, climb into bed, and lay there in the dark alone. I don't really plan to sleep, but when I wake up in the morning it's obvious that I had.

The nightmare that shoves me awake is more of the brutal, lose Katniss kind. In which I have to raise her from her nightmares as she screams murder and horror, as she gurgles blood, tries to clear it from her throat, and gasps it in splatters across my face.

The real Katniss is curled up against me, sleeping soundlessly with soft, fresh tears on her cheeks and I wrap my arms around her. She must have been up all night.

* * *

For days it seems that the elephant, now painted some bright pink to stand out more, is in the corner by us no matter where Katniss and I sit. Constantly separated, across the room from each other, never touching, or even kissing most of the time.

And the elephant stares on.

I haven't kissed Katniss since before burying her best friend. And really, who could?

The problems with District 12 started immediately following. Shortages in food and work, and when the food did arrive, it was spoiled. When work finally came back in the mines, everything was out of balance. Hours were extended and pay was less.

The tense air in the town was so thick that I could've painted on it like a canvas. People stared at me whenever I came around town, so now I normally just avoided going to the Bakery entirely. Instead, keeping to home, and visiting Katniss regularly.

Haymitch was miserable around us, and the couple of times I visited him fights started.

"She needs you over there," he said one time.

"Haymitch–" I tried to argue back.

"Go over there," he growled out, sloshing alcohol down his front, "She needs you a whole hell of a lot more then I do."

I snatched the bottle from his grip and poured it down the sink as he stood to stop me. But I was quicker then him and once it was down he hit me.

My cheek stinging and his red eyes blinking, he struggled to apologize.

"Peeta," he started.

I glared at him so coldly that it stopped him dead in the middle of his sentence. And then I left. I haven't been to see him since and he hasn't came out from his house either. Days hardly. But to me it was longer.

The closest Katniss and I were was at night, when she climbed into my bed after I fell asleep, after she'd exhausted herself; trying to stay awake from the nightmares. But she's always there when I wake up, nose nuzzled against my right peck and hands clutching my waist for support.

It's the one morning that I'm up and she's no where in sight that I feel the worry sinking in. Maybe I've gotten too comfortable? Thinking that she's always going to be here in the morning. Maybe we were drifting apart, an in my comfort I hadn't realized her distance from me... Growing larger?

I stand from the bed and the door is open, walking out of it and downstairs, I see that her jacket and boots are gone from the front door. And this worries me even more.

With my own jacket on, I snatch up my keys and slip into my snow boots before making my way over to her house. I knock twice and then let myself in.

Prim, who's at the fireplace for warmth runs to me and hugs me tightly, "Peeta!"

I pick her up into my arms, though she's big enough not to, I do it anyways, "Hey, little duck. You haven't seen Katniss this morning, have you?"

She shakes her head, giggling at being treated so small. But she clings to my shoulders anyways.

"Alright," I set her back down in one of the large chairs by the fire and go up to Katniss's room; only to find a bed that was never slept in. And that her hunting pack is gone. My stomach lurches in concern.

I kiss Prim on the head before leaving the house and going to Haymitch's.

This one I don't even bother to knock. I walk in and see him curled up against the counter as usual. One arm under his self and I shuffle over to wake him.

His hand thrusts out and I snatch his wrist quickly, remove the knife from his fingers and set it down in the sink.

"One day you'll get my eye," I say, "And then you'll be sorry."

He stands and looks at me, at my jaw, which has healed down some, "I already am."

I smile weakly, "It's okay. We've all been upset. I don't blame you."

He nods and sits back down, "So what has you over here?"

"Katniss," I say, he gives me a look and I chuckle nervously, "No, at least I hope not. She's missing though."

"Missing?"

"She wasn't in bed this morning, her boots and jacket are gone," I explain, "She's not at home. And her bag is missing." I give him a knowing look.

Haymitch sits up, "You can't be serious? She... It was from the dresses, yesterday?"

"I think so."

He stands and pulls on his coat, "Well, we can't go after her. The only thing we can do is wait." He shuffles into his old, worn boots and moves to open the door, but I grab his wrist.

His eyes meet mine and I smile sadly at him, "One moment, Haymitch," I then step forward and hug him, let him understand the apology and friendship that I offer, and he finally hugs back. As close as we are, I've never hugged the guy before, but this one feels well deserved after the fight. And I think it helps more then anything else could've.

When I pull away, he looks amused.

"You didn't have to do that," Haymitch grins.

I shrug, "Maybe not, but I thought it would convey more then anything I had to say. Look," I pause and bow my head, "I'm sorry too. You're important to me, Haymitch. I don't want to fight with one of the closest people I've got."

He nods, "I agree."

"I'm already losing Katniss–"

"Since when?"

I lifted my hand, motioning to the outside, "I don't even know where she is, I mean... What kind of husban–" I stop in the middle of the sentence and he stares at me in shock.

"Have you two...?" He asks suspiciously, "I mean, you were gone all that day and we couldn't find you. Did you and Katniss elope?"

"I can't hide a thing from you," I joke, "Can I?"

"Of course not," He grumbles, but is still smiling, "I'm glad for you, but it was ill timed."

I nod, "No kidding."

"It would've been nice to have others to back me up," He says, "Maybe Gale wouldn't be–"

"Haymitch," I raise my voice, "I don't want to hear you say that around Katniss," he nods in agreement, "She's already having a hard enough struggle over it."

"Have things settled back down since then? Even a little bit?"

I shake my head, "No, things are still tense. Which means... Well, she can't have... Haymitch, you don't think she... I mean..."

Haymitch shrugs, "I can't say anything on her behalf, technically, but I doubt she'd just leave Prim and her mother. And she _does _love you; I mean come on, she **married **you. What more of a hint do you need? This is just something you two have to get around."

Reassured for the moment, I nod and we head out of the house.

Haymitch howls in annoyance and clutches his jacket close, "Can it get any colder?"

"It's warm today," I comment and he huffs something that sounds like 'my ass'.

Back in Katniss's home we take up seats at the fire with Prim and join in to give her advice on her homework.

We eat dinner and time passes painstakingly slowly.

I'm standing to help Katniss's mother wash the dishes from dinner in the kitchen when there's a knock on the door, "I've got it," I say and move to it since I'm already up.

The two Peacekeepers at the door send sparks of fear down my spine and I step back, "Hello?"

The woman stares coldly and says, "This is the home of Katniss Everdeen?" she asks and I nod, _Katniss Mellark, really_.

"We're here on official business and request her presence."

Their noses can't be any higher in the air if they try.

I step more out of the way, "Come right in, Katniss is out right now though."

She sneers, "You're Peeta Mellark?"

I bow, "I am."

Then she steps in with the other man. He smiles widely at me and I smile back, which inside is probably more of a grin similar to that of a man that is going insane.

I take the seat by Haymitch again before asking: "Chess?"

He takes up the offer and we strike up an intense, patient game.

The two Peacekeepers walking around us stare and poke at everything, ask questions as the minutes tick by.

"Are you over often, Mr. Mellark?"

I nod, "Of course, Katniss is..." _My wife? No, I can't say that, no one knows about it of course_, "Katniss is my fiancé, so naturally. I'm over more often then not." It's honest enough.

"How long has she been out today?"

"Katniss went out just a few minutes before you arrived," I say nonchalantly, "She could be back at any time though. It could be ages."

"You didn't go with her?"

At this one I give the man a piercing look, "She's not my child, I don't go following her every move, having to hold her hand and guide her around."

He sent that look back, "Well, most couples go places together. Why did you stay?"

"Because I'm not a needy partner?" I suggest.

He backs off then and the girl takes up the heat, "Does she go out on her own often?"

I snag Haymitch's bishop with my knight and don't look away from the board, "Are you two here to try and fish things out of me?"

She glares and I smile, "We're just curious."

"Suspicious," I correct, "You mean, surely. There's no reason to be. Katniss and I are both very honest people. We have nothing to hide."

Her look changes and she raises a brow, "Is that so?"

"It is," I say, but then I steel her with another glare, "It wouldn't be nice if you came here to stab around at a person willing to be honest and polite. Some people don't like it. Especially people that have been known to be able to handle themselves when put in an Arena of similar aged teens with weapons."

The two of them have tight lips now, and then they remain completely silent.

I turn back and share a grin with Haymitch.

Things are silent mostly after that. For hours.

Nearly two have passed by, and the chess game is coming to a head, when suddenly the front door opens and Katniss walks inside.

My nerves calm for a moment as I observe the odd expression on her face. Surprise, surely she's surprised at the Peacekeepers in her house. But there's also the hint of a grimace. Is she hurt or something?

"Hello," she says emotionlessly to the two Peacekeepers staring her down.

"Here she is," Katniss's mother says, "Just in time for dinner." It's such a slick lie that I almost get hungry from it. No, dinners been and passed.

I observe her in surprise, so that's where Katniss gets it from.

Katniss pulls down the hood of her jacket and shakes out her long wet hair. It's not surprising that I've missed her as much as I have, is it?

"Can I help you with something?"

"Head Peacekeeper," I see Katniss's eyes darken at this just slightly, "Thread sent us with a message for you."

"They've been waiting for hours."

"Must be an important message," Katniss notes with a raised brow to her mother and then to the Peacekeepers.

The woman watches her every move and then says in a clipped voice: "May we ask where you've been, Miss Everdeen?_" Mrs. Mellark..._

"Actually, it's–" she stops and her eyes meet mine, _hmph, even she tried to correct them_. "It's easier to ask where I _haven't _been." Katniss sighs dramatically, correcting her flounder, walking to the table, and all but slamming her bag down before turning to look at Prim.

Haymitch lifts his head from the game, "So where haven't you been?"

"Well I haven't been talking to the Goat Man about getting Prim's goat pregnant, because someone gave me completely inaccurate information as to where he lives."

It's a complete, full lie, like her mother, and I smile wide.

"No, I didn't," Prim argued, "I told you exactly."

Katniss raises a brow at her, "You said he lives beside the west entrance to the mine."

"The east entrance," Prim corrects her.

They banter back and forth until Katniss glares, "No. When did you say that?"

"Last night," Haymitch mumbles as he moves his knight and claims one of my pawns.

"It was definitely east," I say and chuckle with the man before me, "I'm sorry but it's what I've been saying. You don't listen when people talk to you."

"Bet people told you he didn't live there today and you didn't listen again."

"Shut up, Haymitch," Katniss says, glaring at him.

I can't help bursting into laughter with the group at this, because despite the lies, this is what it was like... Before the Elephant trampled in.

"Fine," Katniss gives up, "Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up."

The fits of laughter make a round again and then the female Peacekeeper, unyielding, points to the pack on the floor, "What's in the bag?"

My stomach clutches nervously for a second but Katniss lifts it and dumps it on the table, "See for yourself."

I snatch a small bag up, "Ooh, peppermints." I take one and toss the rest to Haymitch as Katniss moves to grab it back.

"They're mine," She growls as Haymitch takes one and then Prim after him, "None of you deserves candy!"

"What?" I ask as I stand up and move to her, folding her in my arms, "Because we're right?"

I feel her wince against me and I share a look with her, "Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we're all idiots. How's that?"

"Better," She comments and then she lifts up onto her toes to kiss me sweetly.

It's a deeper kiss then I'm expecting, but I don't complain.

When she pulls away, the apology in her eyes, she turns to the two frozen Peacekeepers and asks: "You have a message for me?"

"From Head Peacekeeper Thread," the woman says as the man just looks at us with a silly grin, "He wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day."

"Didn't it already?" Katniss asks.

* * *

We see the Peacekeepers off and Katniss tells us about her fall, her tail bone, and her swollen ankle.

When it's wrapped up and she's drank down her tea, I grab her up in my arms and bring her to bed. I lay her down gently and am about to leave when she grabs my hand.

"Peeta?"

I stop and turn to her, "Katniss?"

She sighs, "I'm sorry, Peeta," her fingers squeeze mine, "I'm sorry about what I tried to do, I know it was wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. I love you, more then anything. I can't bare to lose you **both**, not now, when I need you."

I walk up and sit beside her, "You'll never lose me, Katniss. I promise."

"Can you stay?" She asks.

"Of course," I climb into bed with her and pull her close, breathe in the scent of forest and snow from her hair, "You're going to tell me where you went?"

"I have to," she mumbles, "Tomorrow though."

I lift her face up and kiss her.

"I love you," She says sleepily as she curls up in my arms.

"I love you," I tell her softly, "Always."

And then I watch the elephant leave the room. Finally, after long enough, Gale is actually buried.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Looking forward to reading all of yer thoughts! Love you all! Review please! See you next week!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	13. Chapter 9 OPTION A: Unusual Chatter

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option A

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Will and my youngest sister are at Walt Disney World fer the week. .

So my 'Heroes Friday' is put on hold this week. /sad face

Anyways, to get this truck rolling... I uh... Finished reading Uglies, the entire 4 books, made me bawl (like a baby).

I've been drawing a lot lately but I think Ima put that on a big hold because my thumb swelled up like a balloon fer the better part of yesterday and today. I have Tendinitis, btw. Fer those that don't know.

Also, apparently my werk place might be laying ppl off this week and next, which friggin terrifies me. T_T That's the last thing I need. But I have to be positive... If I get laid off... I can write more chapters! And uh... Get a better job, maybe?

You really have to think of those kind of things in a better light. Something good will come of it, I'm sure. Doesn't mean I WANT it to happen though. Not with this economy.

So yeah, I think that's it fer this week. Oh, and I have to share this because I keep fergetting.

kakavegegurl. deviantart .com/#/d3aue35

I made it a WHILE back, fer those of you that stalk me on that HungerGamesArena site, you've seen it.

Tank-e to everyone fer the lovely reviews! I broke 90 fer the chapters 8! Which means PWPP now has more reviews then Tips/Blades! Woot. Lets keep them going! Break 100 with chapters 9!

I love you all! Now read on, and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **The new question is: Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta?

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 12: "Opt A response-Yeah, I agree. But I had to do it. I loathe Gale more then any other character, so yer feelings are... Fer lack of a better werd, _felt_. Opt B response-Yeh B is definitely leaning to the 'sweet/sad' side. But what good romance story like this one doesn't? Also, doing this on Tuesdays really makes my weeks go by so friggin fast. It's kinda insane from my pov."

Emily (my biggest fan): "Nah, I know what you mean, it is fer me too! I just see it developing. And yeah, the two Peetas... Their differences will be so much more pronounced in book 3. Thank you so much fer remaining static and faithful! /love."

BarryTrotter: "Hudson? O.o /shudder. Iuno, that's a scary name. XP It will have to be put into consideration tho fer the time being. Soon I'll have a list of names. Also uh... Yer suggestion fer book 3 makes me cry, because the two options are already picked. BUT, BUT, of course there's a 'but'. Who said I wouldn't consider a... dun, dun, dun... OPTION C?"

Where's my LittleAsian? O.o

* * *

**Side Notes:**

No hostage has been held like I've been holding mine

But I'm just fine

Since I've been without you

No prisoner could climb the walls that I've built up in my mind

Since I've been without you

But I'm holding down and out

I'm desperate without you

Look at the shape I'm in

Talking to the walls again

Look at the state I'm in

Bent and broken is all I've been

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Unusual Chatter

* * *

**

Fresh baked bread muffins are pulled from the oven and set on the counter top.

I leave them there to cool and yank off my mitts, setting them down as well. Then I step into my shoes, my jacket, and pick up the plate of chocolate chip cookies from their resting spot in the microwave. I make out of the house, lock the door and walk patiently down the road, out of the Victor's Village.

The trek to my family's bakery is short and silent going. Originally, I would've been sitting with Katniss at her house, but things weren't comfortable enough yet.

I knock on the door and stand for a moment before my oldest brother, Ven, answers. He grabs up the cookies and ruffles my hair.

"Pita bread," he chirps thankfully and makes off like a bandit.

Just in time for him to pass the kitchen door, my father sweeps his hand out and removes the plate of cookies like a practiced ninja.

He hands it back to me with an air of good humor after helping me out of my jacket.

"It's nice to see you," he says softly in his deep, burly, familiar voice and hugs me.

I hug back thankfully, melting into his warmth. I never get time to spend with him anymore. And this has been missed.

His hand combs my hair, not completely unlike my brother's. Only, it's more welcome.

"It's nice to see you too," I smile and pull away, "New burn?" I point to his arm, he nods and sneaks a cookie from my plate.

"Just this morning."

I stare at it and smile, "I kind of miss that."

He raises a brow, "Only you would miss burns, Peeta," he smiles down at me and walks back off into the kitchen.

Mother, standing in the doorway of it, unties her apron, takes it off and points to the floor at my feet, "Don't forget to take off your shoes."

"I didn't," I say and shuffle out of them, "I take them off at the doorway of my house too."

The look from her says clearly that she doesn't believe me. Something so simple, and she thinks I've lied about it.

I move forward anyways, kiss her on the cheek, and hand her the plate, "They're still warm, so handle them carefully."

She nods and steps away without another word.

I walk around the rooms, into the living room, and take a seat on the couch beside Ven.

He watches me closely and then says: "Do you even grow a beard yet?"

"A beard?" I raise my brow, "No?"

And he nods, "I thought so. You know... You're the only one of us that can't."

"Besides dad."

"Besides dad," he agrees, "You look like a boy."

I cock my brow a second time, "This might surprise you... But I _am _a boy."

Ven rolls his eyes, "Please. I mean you look like a _kid_. For someone that killed that Cato guy, you still look like you're eleven."

I shrug, "I'm far too tall to be eleven."

Dad comes in the room at this point and takes a seat beside us, "Dinner's done."

"Then why are you sitting down?"

"I cooked it," he says with a grin, as if it answers everything.

Dinner passes with mother in silence, as always, the only thing she's done before is open her mouth and ruin it; so she keeps to herself. Dad, who's unnaturally cheerful, steals bites from nearly everyone's plates and pretends like he still hasn't eaten when he makes his own after we've all finished.

Technically, he's not the last to eat, but he likes to make it look that way.

It's nice now, to eat with the family, and not have stale bread. But instead, the food is good, showing off more of what my father can do when given fresh noodles and such to work with.

In my opinion, the Capitol's dishes could never top this.

Milo, the 'middle brother', is the first in the livingroom as the screen flickers to life.

The dresses that arrived far before hand are showing on it. And the look on Katniss's face during the shoot is both enthusiastic and fake. It's probably convincing to those of the Capitol, but I don't think that the people in the Districts can fall for it, except a small handful of them.

It's unusual, watching these announcements with my parents. My two brothers bickering back and forth as the different dresses show.

Milo is kidding a few times about 'gripping her hackles', but Ven's comments are just a shy coin from pornography. And both of their comments have mother getting tight-lipped and angry, and father grinning to himself and giving me a knowing look; reminding me most of the way Haymitch treats us.

* * *

After the photo shoot is done, they announce the Quarter Quell's spin. And it's that the names of the Tributes reaped this year will be pulled from the current Victors of each District.

My father, closest to me by more then one standard, is sitting as still as a closed door. His face is blank and I can see the obvious fear as it washes over him.

Mother, on the other hand, stands and turns the television off as my brothers both stop teasing each other and look at me in surprise.

Ven is staring in to my eyes even though I'm looking away, "Pita bread?"

They were just kidding about Katniss; making funny, cute little jokes about babies with blue eyes and black hair. It's painful to see the dramatic change that the Quarter Quell's one small detail has initiated in them both.

I stand, ready to leave the house when my dad grabs my hand.

"Peeta," he says.

I step back from them all, my stomach feeling too vulnerable to talk. I might puke. With this in mind, I cover my mouth and walk into the kitchen. The smell of bread hits me and I really have to leave.

My mother is following me as I step out into the hallway and pull on my shoes.

"Peeta," she reaches to stop me but I've left the house before any of them can say anything.

And then I start to run.

The existing Victors. Me, Haymitch, and Katniss. Which means that Katniss will have to go in no matter what. And there's no way I'm going to sit by and watch her fight all of those Victors. I need to go as well.

I reach the Victor's Village and am quite surprised when my eyes meet Gale's. He's standing on the front doorstep of Katniss's house with his arms folded.

I raise a brow, "Knocking normally helps."

He glares only and then turns to leave.

With the door unlocked finally, I'm about to step in the house when he says: "She doesn't want to see me."

I turn back to look at him, standing with his loose, worn jacket on, his feet disappearing halfway in the snow, his hair long and tied back.

"She picked you," I argue, "Why wouldn't she want to see you?"

"You know why," he says, looking back to her house, "I've already been in, she doesn't want to go now. She's drunk, and she still doesn't want me over you."

"She's what?" I ask.

"Drunk," Gale shrugs then and turns away, "I'm sure you're going back in there, so I want you to take care of her."

I nod, "I always do."

His eyes, watching me closely, don't seem to believe me. And he stands still, angry, stiff backed, and waits.

I open the door wide and look at him, "Come in for a drink?"

It's his turn to raise a brow, "Drink?"

"Not alcohol," I say, "I don't even have an occasional spirit, but I mean something more like tea, maybe?"

He nods then, steps forward, and kicks the snow off of his boots against the steps before joining me inside.

I take my shoes off, pad through the room in socks, and move to the refrigerator.

Gale sits at the counter, his worn jacket still on and stares at the bread muffins with a sort of amused grin.

"Something interesting?" I ask as I pull down two glasses and fill them with ice cold sweet tea.

He stares at them, reaching out to take one and then says: "You really live up to your stereotype, don't you?"

I point to the blank canvas behind him and he looks at it.

His chuckle is actually comforting as he turns back and takes a sip from his glass.

I sit down across from him, remove two of the bread muffins and hand him one, "I think you do as well. So maybe we all can't help staying in some sort of comfort zone. How's your back?"

"You make me sound like some old guy."

"I guess," I laugh and peel the hard shell top of the muffin off and eat it first, "But really, how is it?"

He shrugs, "It smarts. How's your retarded leg?"

I glance at him to see the humor and realize it's not meant as an insult, "It's useful. Surprisingly."

Gale nods and bites his bread muffin into nearly a half of it's size, sipping his tea to water it down, "You're not going to let Haymitch go in, are you?"

"Of course not," I say softly, "I can't sit back and watch those two fight to the death."

He nods in understanding and finishes the muffin, I place another in front of him and he takes it eagerly, "As much as I can't stand you, I didn't expect you to."

"We have to start getting ready now," I say, "Practice, get fit. I'm going to get her out of there, one way or another."

"That's something you and I have in common."

I smile at him, "Too bad there's nothing you can actually do when it comes down to it."

He looks like he wants to disagree, or have a fit, but he doesn't. "Not my fault."

"I guess."

"My name was in there so many more times then your's was," he says, looking down at his hands, "Sometimes I wish it had been me that was in that arena with her."

I drink the rest of my tea just as he tosses his back, "That's something you and I have in common as well."

He smirks, knowing exactly what I mean, and then he stands up, "Well, this has been cute and all, but I have to get going."

"Gale," I say before he leaves, and then I hand him the rest of the tray of muffins in a bag, "For your family."

He looks close to arguing again, "I don't want your pity, Peeta."

"I don't pity you."

Gale's eyes meet mine again and then he takes the bag, "Good."

He leaves then and I lock the door behind him.

* * *

The next morning I hunt down each and every one of Haymitch's hidden booze, including the ones I've bought myself, even manage to get my hands on the ones that Katniss has been hiding in her house.

I collect them all up in a box and pour them away.

The reaction I get from Haymitch and Katniss is complete, sputtering with hangovers and both miserable at my insistence to be a thorn in their sides.

When it's done and over, and we're on the train, I have a feeling that they will thank me.

And now the training starts.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

*Vanish to Opt B*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	14. Chapter 9 OPTION B: Treasure

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B

* * *

**

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

PEENISS! Okay, I had to say it. XP

Just want to let everyone know that there WAS A SCENE SNIPPED out of here. Right from the beginning of the chapter. I took it off because it didn't quite 'fit'. But I will include it in my interview at the end of this part (PWPP). Just like I did with the last one. But that's a long way away. I just wanted to get that out there. ^^

I love you all, you know that if you've read Opt A's a/n, if you haven't... Go back and read it! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone, and enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **The new question is: Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta?

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2: **Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1: **Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 12: "Opt A response-Yeah, I agree. But I had to do it. I loathe Gale more then any other character, so yer feelings are... Fer lack of a better werd, _felt_. Opt B response-Yeh B is definitely leaning to the 'sweet/sad' side. But what good romance story like this one doesn't? Also, doing this on Tuesdays really makes my weeks go by so friggin fast. It's kinda insane from my pov."

Emily (my biggest fan): "Nah, I know what you mean, it is fer me too! I just see it developing. And yeah, the two Peetas... Their differences will be so much more pronounced in book 3. Thank you so much fer remaining static and faithful! /love."

BarryTrotter: "Hudson? O.o /shudder. Iuno, that's a scary name. XP It will have to be put into consideration tho fer the time being. Soon I'll have a list of names. Also uh... Yer suggestion fer book 3 makes me cry, because the two options are already picked. BUT, BUT, of course there's a 'but'. Who said I wouldn't consider a... dun, dun, dun... OPTION C?"

Where's my LittleAsian? O.o

* * *

**Side Notes:**

I will let you undress me

But I warn you

I have thorns like any rose

And you could hurt me with your bare hands

You could hurt me with the sharp end of what you say

But I'm lost to you now

And there's no amount of reason that could save me

So break me, take me

Just let me feel your arms again

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Treasure

* * *

**

The night after Katniss's photo shoot, for her 'wedding dresses', they announce what the twist of the Quarter Quell is.

It's time is ideal, I think, because first we watch the collection of Katniss's colorful dresses. My wife, in styles and colors, unlike the woman I know so well. And I can see it in her face, that longing, that want for freedom.

I'm sitting down with her now. Both of us are dressed more formal then usual, her in a soft, tight fitting dress, and me in an average black suit, watching as Snow reads aloud from a small card.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary," he says, staring darkly at the screen, "As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

It's slowly spoken, and I can only think: _of course. It's just our luck. I was right. We've never really been out of the arena, have we? _

Katniss's hands are the first thing I notice (besides for my heart pounding against the walls of my chest) as I turn numbly to her. Her shaking hands clasped together in her lap, the terrified, mortified look on her face.

Prim is beside herself, she buries her face down in her hands in horror, probably hiding from us the fact that she's crying.

Mrs. Everdeen lets out a sound of pain and surprise, reaches down slowly, and touches Katniss's shoulder.

_This is what it must feel like to swallow sand._

I stand and turn off the television, thinking of the only thing I can do that doesn't need to be voiced. I help Katniss from the couch, give her family a knowing look, and carry her upstairs. She's numb, inactive, even comatose in my arms as I take each step.

When I lay her down finally and stand to undress, her arms reach out, grabbing my shoulder blades and pulling me down like a cat that's being lowered into water. She won't let me go.

I pull my head back to look at her and there's tears spilling down her cheeks, pouring in a solid river, making red her eyes, and flushing her face. I hate, hate, hate seeing her like this.

Full sobs wrack her frame, she's gasping, crying, struggling to hold it in, but the pains too strong. I can see it on her face as she finally lets go, voice coming out at last, and sobbing loudly in my arms.

I kiss her shaking lips, lay her down on her back and kick off my shoes without taking my hands from her. I lift the comforter from under us and wrap our bodies up in a warm cocoon. She clings to me with every movement until I'm cradling her in my arms.

And when I've finally settled down she whispers out: "I'm going back in the arena." Her voice is emotionless, distant, and numb.

I nod, fear gripping my heart tight like her hands to my shoulders and I push the bangs out of her eyes, "We both are."

She looks at me in horror, "I can't bare that, Peeta. Please, don't–"

"You have to," I tell her softly, kiss her trembling lips again, "I won't let you go in alone. And not with Haymitch either. I can't sit back and watch the two people I love die. You can't ask me to do that, Katniss. I won't."

I can tell she wants to argue, but she nods because she understands more then anything that I'm right. It's the only way I can live with myself. If I live at all.

"Peeta," she whispers softly then, "Either way... I'm going to lose you."

"You won't lose me, Katniss," I kiss her forehead, her eyelashes, her brows, her temples, her nose and cheeks, and then her lips. "Not ever. Dead or alive, breathing or not. You won't lose me."

Her eyes fill with tears again as she lets me treasure her.

"I'm going to lose you," her voice breaks at the end as she cries again, and I press my mouth against hers to choke off the sobs.

I wipe the tears from her face with my palms and kiss her more passionately now, pouring my concern through my lips, my hands clutch at her cheeks to hold her face close and her arms fold over my back, running fingers down my spine.

She's surprised when I sit up and stare down at her, then she reaches her arms forward to have me but I only bend down to kiss her once more. And then I remove the pale stockings from her legs, with each I roll them down with both hands, kissing her newly exposed knees, calves, ankles and feet.

Careful with the one she's twisted, I fold my palm over the soles of her feet, massaging them with my strong fingers. I do the same up her legs, to her thighs, and then I lift the elegant dress from her body.

Her head lays back as she stares at me and I take up one of her arms, kissing her fingers, her soft palms and wrists, pressing my lips into the inside of her elbow, sucking the skin.

"Peeta," she moans and I pull the panties up, pressing her legs together and finally past her toes.

I bend over again, kiss her lips and move down her body, remove the bra to free her breasts and then manipulate the nipples between my fingers and teeth.

She lets out a soft gasp as I massage her chest, move down her flawless form, I dip both mouth and tongue against her belly button, spread her legs wide and press my fingers against her flesh.

Surprised, she moans my name, her own fingers moving down to grab and pull at my hair, "Oh, Peeta."

I've only read slightly more up on how to maneuver the area so I rub my thumb teasingly over her clit and watch her head fall back in satisfaction.

She lets out a sigh of relief as I continue, fingers feeling her; she's warm, hotter here then probably any other place on her body. And so incredibly wet. I spread her legs wider and lower myself to get a better idea of exactly what I'm doing. I glance her flesh once, only once, intentionally short... before I can't stop staring.

Women are so–so very different. I've known this for as long as I can remember, obviously, but I don't think I could've ever imagined it exactly. And just like men, there are different kinds. But her's... her's is perfect.

Completely beautiful, like a young rose; tight, folded and softly pink.

She's watching me closely and I stop to look up at her. Her face, as shaded now as the flesh against my fingers, and I almost feel caught. Ah, _looking_.

"What?" She asks, almost defensive, worried.

I lean up and kiss her, "You're beautiful. That's all."

Her face shades even more, crimson now, and she looks down towards my hands, "Am I?"

"Like a flower," I comment and push her down again, I move my head back between her thighs and have to comment before I do anything more: "That I eat."

She gasps when I move my mouth over her, tasting her finally, tongue flicking over every layer.

When she responds with a struggled, gasping moan of surprise, I realize quickly that pleasure by tongue and mouth to her clit is (not so surprisingly) stronger. It's a task that I imagine the tongue was made for. The gentle, flexible muscle; with its padded, slightly textured surface racing over her sensitive skin.

Her breathing increases and she takes my hand, the one that's holding her hip, she laces her fingers with mine, unwilling to let go.

"Peeta, oh," she sobs, and my cock throbs in satisfaction.

I'm barely breathing as I pleasure her, and when her legs start to shake, I pull my body away, shift my shirt off and she sits up to help me with my pants.

Her steady fingers slip the cotton of my boxers down my legs and she stares up into my eyes. She's more alive now, more aware, then I've ever seen her. More intense then when she's watching her prey, arrow strung tight and hands still against the wood of her bow. More intense then that. More intense then in the Arena, fighting death with me.

Her eyes, staring down at my cock in a kind of fascination, and then she runs her hands through my bangs and we kiss, the taste of her flesh mixing with the still hint of cookies from earlier.

Already, our sweat is mixing, I feel a bead of it run down my temple and she wipes at it.

"I love you," she says calmly, lovingly.

"I love you," I respond, laying us both down on the bed and covering her naked body with my own.

She widens her legs and I pull back to look at her.

"Katniss?"

She raises a brow, "What?"

"Protection?" I suggest.

And then she shakes her head.

"You don't have any?" I guess, "Or you don't want any?" I ask.

She smiles slightly and the tips of her fingers brush over the head of my cock. My eyes roll back and I close them, stifling a moan, "I want to feel you like you are," she starts, "And I don't have any with me."

"But you could get–"

"Dead?" she suggests and stares at me, "Peeta, we have to go back in there. One of us is going to die, or both. I want to feel you, for real."

My heart stings just slightly at her sincerity and I smile, "And what if you _do _get pregnant?"

She shakes her head, "What if I do?"

"And we both live?"

"Then," she says, not believing a word of the sort of 'hope', even for a moment, that we'll both make it out alive, "I'll live with the decisions I make."

Understanding, I kiss her. I'm still willing to protest, pregnancy should be something avoided. But I _am _her husband. So it wouldn't be completely stupid. And we have money to take care of children. And... There's this part of me that, with the thought of spilling my seed inside her, is so completely tempted. For her to receive me in a way that no other can. And to have my children...

Pregnant Katniss; with a swelling stomach. That's not a disappointing thought either.

I nod, spreading her legs wider, wrapping the left up and around my waist as I position myself at her entrance. Then I thrust in, her face squinting for a moment before her thighs squeeze me in reassurance.

This is when the artificial part of my leg comes in more handy then one would expect. More then I have. It already proves useful just walking around, giving my other leg a break, being able to walk much longer, not feeling so exhausted or winded. Even running has been improved. Granted, I don't run much.

But as I thrust into her more, the exertion isn't nearly as taxing as I'd expected at first. I lay my forearms on either side of her face, her hands grab my biceps and then trace lovingly down my spine.

I stare down into her eyes as her mouth pops open in surprise.

She wriggles against me for comfort and then sits up to kiss me, legs clasp as she moves to meet my thrusts. Her deep gray eyes stare up, clear and excited.

I can feel the muscles surrounding my cock, squeezing and receiving. She's warm, just as she'd been around my fingers, only this was more different then what I'd been expecting, again. It seems that no matter what, no matter how much I've prepared myself for her, Katniss is bound to surprise me on all sides. _Literally_.

The sweat pours down from me, onto her chest, slicking us together, and I curl my back to take her flesh into my mouth. The strangled gasp of relief from her is more heavy then the air around us.

I pull us up more to get free from the pillows, the blankets smothering our heat. Supporting her back on her pillows, spreading her legs wider; bending the left and holding it up under my arm, I reposition myself inside of her.

She lets out a soft little moan, "Peeta."

Deciding that it was a more agreeable position, I begin thrusting into her again, and she starts falling to pieces.

Her fingers run down my chest, caressing my skin, eyes staring up at me as she cries my name.

I have to struggle against it now, hold back the wave that's sure to hit and, instead, let her leg go. I draw her up close in my arms, kiss her swollen lips, nibble down her chin and jaw line, down her neck and whisper against her collar bone: "You are the most beautiful creature in this world, Katniss."

Then, looking into her eyes, I say: "I love you."

She stares up at me, her face trying to keep control, "I.." she pants, "I love you too, Peeta."

I run my hands down her arms, take her wrists up and lift them against the sheets, up by her head and weave our fingers together. Her legs wrap around my hips again. I bury myself into her, lips ghosting her neck and the underside of her jaw as I release finally.

Her fingers shaking on my shoulders, her legs shuddering around my waist, her hair down from it's braid now. She stares at me as the room silences, the heat of it seems to cool a few degrees as we stare into each other's eyes. And she smiles.

Coming down from the head-spinning climax, I pant and pull up my weight from her so that she can actually breathe.

My hands, taking on a life of their own, trace over her features after I lay down by her side; as close as I can be without being in her again (though that idea isn't disagreeable). And I kiss down her chest again, over her toned stomach, as she sleepily shifts to give me access.

I tease her hips with teeth and tongue, dip down into her belly button and then move back up to trace kisses over every freckle on her perfect breasts.

"Peeta," she mumbles sleepily, still smiling as I kiss and suck her flesh.

I glance up to her as her fingers twist in my hair, then I squeeze her close in my arms and press my lips to hers.

She grabs me down and rolls us onto our sides, snuggling close against me, "I think I've been needing that for a long time."

"That makes two of us," I hold her close as I drift off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning I wake her up, teasing her body again, enjoying that taste of her until she's been excited awake.

I pull up from under the covers and nuzzle my nose against her cheek, "Shower?"

She nods and I lift her up into my arms, take her into the bathroom and wash her body. I scrub the shampoo into her hair, rinse and lather every inch of her body, kiss her lips as she clings tightly to me.

When I've finished, and we're both clean, she's so wide awake that she starts crying.

I hold her close, remove us from the shower, dry her off and get her dressed. We're laying in bed, clean and clothed, snuggling close when there's a knock on the door.

"Come in," I say and it opens to allow Prim and Katniss's mother to enter.

They walk to us and Prim climbs onto the bed, right between us and hugs us together.

Katniss's mother moves to her side, staying silent and running her long fingers through Katniss's hair.

Standing at the door still is Haymitch, and I'm the first to look up to him. He walks in more and stares at me, "I'm sorry," he says, and he looks miserable.

I nod, "It's life, I guess," I say.

He looks completely downcast and sits at the end of the bed, "It's not right, or fair."

"I agree," I stretch my hand out to him but he's too far to reach.

Instead, though, he shifts, and takes my hand in his for comfort, his fingers squeeze mine and then he leaves. He knows that out of the two of us, if he's called I'll take his place. And if I'm called he won't take mine.

So, when I die, this time, Katniss won't be the only one mourning my loss. Haymitch, despite everything, has grown on me. And I have grown on him. It'll be another Tribute that he couldn't save.

The only thing that we can do now is prepare.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Love you all, review please? They are loved too! See you lot next week!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	15. Chapter 10 OPTION A: Made Aware

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option A**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Took the day off due to rain, storm, hellfire, and a pain in my back. Seriously.

Hello everybody! I hope you all had an awesome week. Hope it didn't feel like ferever before I came out with this.

These two chapters are going to feel a bit lacking because it's fodder that I have to get through, and the 11's might feel the same way. I'm trying my hardest to keep them juicy and important. But you all know how hard that is.

Also umm, damn you BarryTrotter, that damn name has been stuck in my head all week. 'Hudson'. Fucking Hudson.

And that'll prolly be his name now because you tainted me.

Ugh, I like it. I fucking hate that I like it, lol. But a tall guy who's sweet and all named Hudson? It's just cute! Dammit.

Screw you! XP

Also, what you all think of the boys cast fer Gale and Peeta? I was totally rooting fer Josh Hutcherson to get Peeta. So far, I like all casted, but there's been a lot of whining. I am curious of my fan's point of views! What yall got to say? And if yer gonna whine, don't sound stupid. Lol.

So yeah, not much more to say, enjoy the chapters! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! And also, enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week:** School colors? Give me three.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 14: "Glad I could cheep up yer day! And I try not to keep myself limited, weaving in humor there wasn't that hard, I've had enough of it myself. Written more sex scenes then I care to admit too. XP Thanks fer sticking around!"

Deadrush27: "Thank you so much!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Well in case you failed to notice,

In case you failed to see,

This is my heart bleeding before you,

This is me down on my knees, and...

These foolish games are tearing me apart,

And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.

You're breaking my heart.

You'd teach me of honest things,

Things that were daring, things that were clean.

Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean.

I hid my soiled hands behind my back.

Somewhere along the line, I must've got

Off track with you.

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Made Aware**

* * *

I've tried to keep our training exercises constant, and my contact with Katniss at it's minimal, I'm embarrassed to admit it; but I have. Today, however, I plan to break the ritual.

It's been nearly three weeks of throwing daggers, climbing trees, jogging, racing, sparring, and archery. And I promised Prim that I'd talk to Katniss.

I promised I'd talk to her three weeks ago.

But it's only now that I actually begin to think that I'm ready to confront her about everything between us.

I called the day off beforehand, so when it hits noon I walk over to her house and knock gently on the door. I never ring the bell, habit, I guess.

Prim answers and smiles widely up at me, "Good afternoon, Peeta."

I nod and look up at the sun, "Yeah, it's alright. I need to talk to Katniss."

Her face brightens, probably able to glow in the dark or power a few houses, and she turns, "Alright, I'll be right back."

Keeping my hands at my sides, outside of my pockets (another habit, I guess), I wait and look around at the melting snow. The pain from the instrument lingers from time to time, it's more of a ghost feeling now, making me weary of touching anything and, at least, hesitant. Pockets are about the worst.

Strong steps descend the stairs and Katniss is at the door, holding it with both hands and giving me a sad little smile, "Good afternoon, Peeta."

I look back up at the sun again, "It's alright."

She grins, "Did you want something?"

I shuffle feet and look down, "Would you join me for lunch? At my house?" I offer.

She turns back and at first I'm afraid she's going to shut the door in my face, but she grabs her coat and pulls on her boots, "Alright."

She follows me back to my house and we both are sitting at the counter, eating and tossing soft comments back and forth until we're finished.

This is when she tucks her braid back over her shoulder and asks: "So, what did you want to say?"

I look at her, having prepared this speech since last Tuesday, maybe even further back then that. And I have to say it. I have to get this clear.

"Katniss," I start, taking a breath as she shifts, determined to show that I have her complete attention, "I trust you. I think that goes without saying, but I need you to hear it."

She nods.

"I trust you more then anyone, more then myself, sometimes," I swallow, stare her in the eyes and say: "I know you're confused right now, it's reasonable. And I know that you need me, we kind of need each other. But you need to decide. I can't have this confusion, this disconnect between us. You're an amazing woman, you blow my mind half of the time. And that's both good and bad, for similar reasons. I love you," her eyes fill with tears as I take her hands up in mine, "I love you more then I ever thought I could love anyone."

"If you want Gale, if you really want him, then you have to stop being miserable without me," she's shaking her head but I continue, "I'm still here, Katniss. I'll always be here for you. There's no where I can go without being miserable, if you're not there. I–I'd rather be your friend, then not be anything to you."

"Peeta–"

"It's your choice," I say softly, "But you need to make it."

She smiles sadly and nods, "I know. I already have, and..." She stops and her deep gray eyes meet mine, "It wasn't a hard choice."

Her words mirror the ones I told her so long ago, what feels like forever, when I was willing to die for her in the arena. Before I ever even knew her.

"I want you."

My heart swells up in my throat and I struggle to swallow it back down.

"I want to be with you," she says, unblinking as the tears spill down her cheeks, "I don't think I can do any of this without you, Peeta." She gets up and comes around from her side of the counter, takes my face in her hands, and kisses me.

"I'm sorry for being stupid."

I turn, my body facing hers and she moves closer, my hands grip her waist as she shifts between my bent knees.

Her soft bangs brush against mine as she bends down to my height and devours my mouth.

I let her control the movements and she pulls her jacket away roughly, throwing it to the floor and settling her legs over mine, climbing onto my lap.

The kiss breaks and she breathes in my face, staring down at me. Her cheeks are flushed and she smiles.

"I miss this."

I nod and grab her up, pull us down to the floor, letting her on top and she presses her breasts to my chest as we kiss again.

My hands move over her back, over her shirt and slip under it to trace lines of flowers over her spine.

She sits up, flicks her belt guard open and pulls it through the loops of her pants. It clangs to the wooden floor and then she pops open the top two buttons of her pants, pulls out the lacing tie underneath and I reach up to unzip them.

Her grin spreads across her face and she pulls her hair out of her braid, fingers running through it to sort out the waves and twists. The long tresses spill down her shoulders as she stares down at me.

I can't pull my eyes away, don't even want to as she unbuttons her green dress shirt and slips it off of her broad shoulders. Then I sit up to unclasp her bra, the clip across her back snapping lightly and the piece of material is quickly discarded.

"Do you have any...?" I ask softly and she nods.

She pulls a condom from her pocket and sits up higher to get our pants off.

I'm laughing, the warmth of it rumbling through my chest as her fingers dig under my boxers and pull them away, "Was this planned?"

"Not exactly," She says as she sits on my legs and folds the latex over my throbbing member, "I knew it was in my pocket, but I didn't put it there today."

I raise a brow, "What does that mean?"

"It's left over from a few weeks ago, I washed them but I forgot the condom was in there."

"Good thing it's in a waterproof package," I comment, taking the worn square container in my fingers.

She nods, lowering her self onto me and letting out a soft sigh of relief. My eyes, unable to move from her face, take in the bitten lip, the closed eyes and scrunched up eyebrows.

Her hands smooth up my stomach, my chest, and then she lowers her body and kisses me.

I lean up into it, taking her lip into my mouth, gripping her hips tight between my fingers before taking my left and pressing it between her thighs.

"Peeta," she breathes as I touch her.

My other hand works it's way over her body, enjoying the feel of her pale, smooth skin. Her's, sallow and holding that 'Seam' look, is like a ghost against my darker hands. I'm not completely tanned, but she looks ghost white against me, almost transparent.

Her eyes open and she stares down at me, leans in again to hide me in her long hair, it feathers, tickling over my shoulders, my neck, my cheeks. Her strong thighs lift her on me, the muscles inside of her clinging desperately, squeezing my length in a warm embrace.

I kiss her, bend my knees to thrust up into her and she lets out a gasp of surprise.

The heat builds between us, her lips move over my features, kiss over my chest and I grab her thighs in my paws, thrust into her more. She straightens up and I rest my left palm against her stomach.

Release is dizzying, and I finally let out a gasp of my own, shoving myself deep inside of her.

Her smiles back and she leans down, kissing me sweetly.

The door opens and we both look up in surprise as Haymitch walks in and stops in his tracks, staring at us.

I'm the first to react, wrapping my right arm around Katniss's waist and hiding her behind me, the sound is squelching as I'm pulled out of her abruptly and she releases a soft little moan of surprise. But I cover my own body with bent legs.

"Well?" I ask in surprise, "Are you going to keep looking, or are you going to turn around?"

He does, face red, and I hand Katniss's clothes to her.

I remove the condom, tie it up and fold it back into the package before getting dressed myself.

Hair matted to my face, I toss the 'evidence' in the trash bin and cover it with a napkin (or two) before allowing him to turn back around.

Haymitch walks forward and sets a large glass bowl on the counter and takes a seat, his eyes are still unusually wide and his face a bit flushed.

"Nice to see that you two are... back together?"

Katniss nods, red-faced herself and sits down, "What's this?"

"Something your mother cooked," Haymitch says with a shrug, "She asked Prim to bring it over, but I was about to leave anyways, so I took it. I guess I'm glad I did."

"Umm, yeah," I agree, "I should probably lock the door."

Haymitch seems to relax, "Just tell me you didn't do anything on this stool or something."

"No," I shake my head and point down, "Just this one."

"Nice," He stands and backs up, "Well, I should get going. It's overwhelming enough in here. So I'll just... Let you two get back... to it."

Katniss raises a brow as he leaves, reaches her arms out and draws in the dish.

"What is it?"

She grins wide, "Lamb stew."

* * *

I'm up and at Katniss's house early in the morning for the Reaping. Their house is in a state of stress when I walk through the door and take off my shoes and jacket.

Katniss's mother almost knocks me over as she rushes forward, takes my face in her hands and kisses my cheek.

"Oh, Peeta," she says. She turns then and leaves the hallway.

Katniss, standing at the kitchen door, looks at me sadly as her hands grip the corner frame.

"Morning," I greet her.

She moves to me and takes my hand, "Morning. She's been like that since last night."

I had made Katniss stay home last night, knowing it would be the last with her family... For only a little while, hopefully.

"We all slept in the same bed," She laughs as we walk to the table, "Prim is better then _she _is, believe it or not."

"I do," I say, smiling weakly, Prim's always been so much stronger then anyone could expect from a girl her age.

And there she is, coming down the stairs with a soft blue dress on, her feet meet the last step and then she runs and flings herself into my arms. She's sobbing, sobbing like I've never seen before. Her long blond hair is nice and done up, but her arms wrap around me as if refusing to budge.

"Prim," I gasp, and Katniss gives me an astonished look. Clearly this wasn't expected.

To me, it's not. Prim adores me. And I adore her. And she knows that I'm not going to be coming back. She knows that she's going to see me die.

Prim finally pulls away and stares up at me. Then she turns and takes Katniss's hand, "Let's go."

We walk down the road, join the people in the square as the Reaping begins.

Effie, who's unusually sad nearly bursts into tears when she calls Katniss's name, but it's so much worse when she calls Haymitch and I volunteer over him.

The crowd gasps and some whimper as I take the stage, and Katniss's hand.

When I look back down, my eyes meet Prim's, and she looks completely heartbroken, seeing her sister and me both; going back into the arena again.

I'm unaware though, that this is the last time I'll see her today. Hopefully not the last time ever.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

*Vanishes to Opt B*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	16. Chapter 10 OPTION B: A Pregnant Pause

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Took the day off due to rain, storm, hellfire, and a pain in my back. Seriously.

Hello everybody! I hope you all had an awesome week. Hope it didn't feel like ferever before I came out with this.

These two chapters are going to feel a bit lacking because it's fodder that I have to get through, and the 11's might feel the same way. I'm trying my hardest to keep them juicy and important. But you all know how hard that is.

Also umm, damn you BarryTrotter, that damn name has been stuck in my head all week. 'Hudson'. Fucking Hudson.

And that'll prolly be his name now because you tainted me.

Ugh, I like it. I fucking hate that I like it, lol. But a tall guy who's sweet and all named Hudson? It's just cute! Dammit.

Screw you! XP

Also, what you all think of the boys cast fer Gale and Peeta? I was totally rooting fer Josh Hutcherson to get Peeta. So far, I like all casted, but there's been a lot of whining. I am curious of my fan's point of views! What yall got to say? And if yer gonna whine, don't sound stupid. Lol.

So yeah, not much more to say, enjoy the chapters! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! And also, enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week:** School colors? Give me three.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Anonymous review from Chapter 14: "Glad I could cheep up yer day! And I try not to keep myself limited, weaving in humor there wasn't that hard, I've had enough of it myself. Written more sex scenes then I care to admit too. XP Thanks fer sticking around!"

Deadrush27: "Thank you so much!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Having my baby,

What a lovely way of saying how much you love me

Having my baby,

What a lovely way of saying what you're thinking of me

I can see it your face is glowing

I can see it in your eyes

I'm happy knowin' that you're having my baby

You're the woman I love and I love what it's doin' to you

Having my baby,

You're a woman in love and I love what's goin' through you.

* * *

**Chapter 10 - A Pregnant Pause**

* * *

I palm her elbow out of the way and her entire body falls against mine. My hands settle on her waist to hold her steady and then I brush my cheek up against hers.

"How do you do that so easily?" She asks, sweat pouring down her brow, "You're like water."

I smirk and kiss her nose in a teasing manner, "Exactly," then I push back from her and put my arms up, "You try it, alright?"

She nods, crouching some, putting her arms out with open fists.

I run forward, elbow aimed at her sternum and she passes it just as I've demonstrated. But my weight throws me off completely. Too heavy for her, my back hits her chest and we crumple.

Her laughs fill my ears as she struggles, "You're crushing me."

"I'm not all that good getting up on my own," I chuckle, rolling off of her.

She's up before I even get started and reaches a hand out to help me. As she lifts me to my feet, I draw her in to my arms and kiss her.

"Alright you two," Haymitch protests as he comes towards us, "Don't make me sick."

I turn to him and roll my eyes, "You know you like it."

Katniss jabs me in the side.

"Hey," I grab her elbow up and hold it above her head, much to her protest, "That's not nice."

She glares and then reaches her other arm over and, with her gentle fingers, caresses my side, "Nicer then this?"

I double over, weakness found, and then scratch my side as I can't stop the odd little giggle from escaping my throat.

Sometimes I think I should've never told her my ticklish spots.

Haymitch tosses a bottle of water to me and smiles wide, "you two are like teenagers some times. Young, hormone driven teenagers."

"We _are _teenagers," I argue.

"Aren't you both suppose to be training?" He asks.

Katniss runs past us to meet Prim, who's carrying a plate of sliced up sandwiches.

Haymitch, watching them, leans in to say: "She looks different."

I turn to meet his gaze, "What do you mean?"

He stares at Katniss and then looks at me, "I'm not entirely sure how to explain it."

Katniss comes back and wraps her arms around my neck, "Alright, best two out of three?" She asks, "Haymitch can be the judge."

"You want to actually spar now?" I question her, grinning wide at her enthusiasm.

She jumps back to weigh lightly on each foot, putting up her fists, "I do."

* * *

The front door of the house is thrown open wide as Katniss comes in, wind blows in from behind her and I step from around the counter to help her close the door.

She thanks me, taking her hood and scarf off as I pull the jacket from her shoulders, running my warm hands over her arms.

"So cold out there," she comments as her teeth chatter.

"You're not suppose to be out this early," I say, "Where did you go?"

"I had to talk to my mom. And I need to talk to you."

I nod and turn to finish up breakfast as she takes a seat.

"You made me some?"

"Always."

She grins wide, "Good, I'm starving."

We sit together, eating our scrambled eggs and bacon when Katniss puts her fork down and stares at me.

"I need to tell you something serious."

I look up from my plate, "Sure, what's up?"

"I uh," she pauses, "Remember when we were talking about responsibility? For the decisions I made?"

I stop in mid-sip of my milk, set it down and stare at her, "Yes?"

Her eyes dig into mine and then she states: "It's been more then eight weeks."

I shake my head, "No, it hasn't been that long. Maybe a month and a half–"

"Since my period."

"Your..." I stop again and the gears in my head turn as I realize what she means, "Your period?"

She nods slowly.

We haven't been active on a regular, day to day basis, it's been more of a spur of the moment kind of thing; making love as a slow practice instead of a daily routine. So I'd naturally just guessed that I... Missed it?

Not getting uncomfortable talking about her cycle, I stiffen my shoulders and nod back, "What were you at your mom's house for?"

She stretches out her hand, which has taken something from her pocket, and the small device is set down in front of me.

It's the size of a tiny rock or a large pebble, and it's soft screen is blue. On the corner of it is printed 'Blue = Positive, Red = Negative'.

I take the tiny device up in my hand, my large fingers brushing over the plastic surface of it and then I look at her. I see the terrified look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She's biting her lip, "Peeta–"

"I'm not upset," I say, "I mean, I'm worried, who wouldn't be? But I'm not upset."

"**I** am."

I stop stumbling over my words and look back down at the device, "You didn't seem to care much about it before."

"That was before," she says, standing up, "Peeta, this is different."

"What's different about it?"

"I'm pregnant!" She shouts, her eyes filling with tears as we stare at each other, "I feel different, Peeta. I can _feel _it. And I'm scared."

I stand up, the device clutched in my hands, "How... exactly do you feel?"

Her hands meet at her stomach, one above the other so that they cover most of the surface of her belly, they smooth over it as though they're checking for change, even though there's no sign of child, no little bump. It's probably still so small now that it would go unnoticed completely, but she knows it's there. And the gesture that she makes shows me that.

"Him," she says, tears spilling down her cheeks, "Or her, I can feel them. And I don't... I don't want to lose it. Already, I don't want to lose this child."

I nod in agreement, understanding as she reaches out to take my hands in hers, "I can't explain it, but I already know that I want it. I don't regret it. But we're about to go back in the arena, and... I'm scared."

She touches the device, "It would be bad enough if we weren't going in there. But, Peeta, I can't lose you. If I lived and you didn't–"

She starts to cry again and I take her up in my arms, "To raise this baby alone," she buries her face in my chest and I kiss her head, lips brushing through her soft hair.

"We beat the rules once," I whisper into her ear, "And we will, again."

Unsure, unconvinced, her hand goes back down to her stomach, "Maybe they won't make me go in."

I slip my hand under hers, rub it over her stomach. I don't believe for one second that Snow will change his mind. We'll go back in, both of us, there's nothing to stop it. But if we can take everyone down... Then we'd never fight each other.

So what would happen then?

As I take her to the room, and comfort her, pleasure her, try to ease her mind, I'm afraid. I'm more afraid then I ever was before.

And when I release inside of her, I grip her so tight in my arms, wanting to never have to remove myself again. I want to lay like this forever. And her arms circling around me, her thighs squeezing me, tell me that she feels the same.

* * *

That night I go to Katniss's house and eat dinner with her and the family, Haymitch included. It's necessary now, to announce the pregnancy to everyone and get it over with. And tomorrow, I'll have to do the same for my family.

Katniss takes my hand as we all have finished eating and Haymitch gives us a surprised look. We aren't that physical around everyone, just privately, and the occasional walk-in (As Haymitch has done more often then not).

"I have something to announce," Katniss says boldly and Prim looks up at her in interest.

I squeeze Katniss's hand for reassurance.

"A while back, Peeta and I got secretly married," she says softly. Prim looks a little upset at this, surprised, but she doesn't say anything. Haymitch just nods knowingly and Katniss's mother smiles.

"And now," Katniss looks at me once and then back to everyone at the table, "Now, I'm pregnant."

This information might've been met with enthusiastic glee before the announcement of the Quarter Quell, but it now is met with surprise and evident fear.

Prim covers her mouth, "Katniss."

"I know," she says, "I know. It's bad enough that I'm going in there. But it's just something that... happened."

"Sex doesn't just happen," Haymitch argues, his face going red, "You couldn't wear protection?"

Katniss bows her head, "Peeta suggested it. We weren't completely careless. But I... I didn't want it."

Haymitch is beside himself, "You didn't _want _it? What did you think would happen."

"It didn't matter," Katniss shouts, raising her voice over his, "I wasn't completely concerned. I knew it was a possibility, but I just... I didn't care."

Katniss's mother, silent for the conversation, speaks up finally, "It hurts now though, doesn't it?"

I look to her, Katniss does as well, and I see her nod out of the corner of my eye.

"If there's a way to make it out," Katniss says softly, "We will. But I thought you all had the right to know beforehand. Because we're going to announce it during the interviews. And I wanted you all to be aware that it's not a lie."

Haymitch's mouth closes and he nods in silence.

Prim, who's hands are still over her mouth, mumbles: "When did you find out?"

"This morning," Katniss says softly, "I'm not far along, but I only just found out. I couldn't have waited any longer to tell something so important."

Katniss's mother nods and smiles at her, "If there's anyone grown up enough for a child, it's you, Katniss."

Haymitch, despite his surprise and annoyance, nods. I don't think there's a person alive able to disagree.

"We should go," Katniss says, standing up, "Peeta and I have to go and tell his family in the morning, I'm pretty tired."

They stand together and each in turn give her a hug as I pull on my shoes.

* * *

It turned out that telling mine wasn't nearly as hard or complicated as it could've been (or like I expected it to be).

Dad looked concerned, hugged me and Katniss, and offered her a sandwich. Mom, surprisingly, had about the best bit of comfort anyone could afford to give with such grim news.

"Well," She had said, hands on hips, "If I thought Katniss was going to make it out last time, then she certainly is this round."

I didn't know what she meant until she looked at Katniss and added: "You're not just going to be fighting for your own life, or just Peeta's now, but your child as well."

Katniss nodded in agreement.

Other then that, the only responses were the looks that my brothers gave me, surprised that not only had I managed to sleep with Katniss, but knock her up in the process.

"Swell doing," Ven had said with a clap on the back.

But Milo just stood there in astonishment and didn't say a thing.

All in all, it was easier. In ways, I was comforted, and in others... I wasn't. This just shows how much concern they have for me. But it also helps in installing the idea that Katniss has to live, if anyone, Katniss.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Thank you all fer reading, I hope you lot have a safe week! Please review, I love and adore reviews! See you next week! /kisses

~KaKaVegeGurl


	17. Chapter 10B OPT B Special

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Reading this isn't necessary to plot.

I wanted to get out some sweet scenes of Peeta and Katniss dealing with her pregnancy, scenes that were ignored in the actual Option B chapter 10.

They aren't completely important or relevant, but I wanted to write them.

I'm sure, after all of you read the books, that you all prolly wondered how amazing of a father/husband Peeta would be. And yes, you'll all get to see a lot of that in the END.

BUT, since Opt B Peeta is already being a father early, I wanted to write a few really sweet scenes and stuff, so that those of you that like that stuff could coo/swoon/squee/attempt to glomp yer computer. You know, the usual fangirl stuff.

So I wrote these! Hopefully this might hold some of you off till Tuesday. Yes, chapters 11 will still happen on TUESDAY, no delay because of this.

Enjoy! I love you all, hope you all are being safe! Please read and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Chapter 10.5 - Pregnant**

* * *

Sitting awake half the night, it's only about six in the morning and I'm twirling a small sliver of Katniss's bangs around in my fingers. I'm in the middle of nearly the thirty-third swirl of it when she sits up and rushes to the bathroom without anymore warning then doing just that. She doesn't even flick the light on when I hear her heave into the toilet.

I'm up on my feet and rush to her side as she throws up again.

"Katniss?" I ask nervously.

She pukes again, her body shudders at the act and I reach forward to remove her hair. It's sopping wet with vomit, but I ignore the slight lurch I get in my stomach. Instead, I grab a towel and wrap the hair up in it for the moment.

Katniss, struggling to say something that sounds like 'thank you', pukes again, this time having nothing to dispel. Her body just shivers instead, hands gripping the toilet seat.

I stand, wash my left hand and then use it to rub soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

It takes her a moment before she sits back, flushes the toilet and sighs.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta," she says, her voice wavering from the violent act of her stomach.

"Don't be," I say as I turn her face to me and wipe it clean with a second towel, "There's nothing about it that you have control of."

I lift her up and place the back of her neck against the rim of the bathtub, let her hair free from the towel and turn the water on. It flows through her hair, cleaning the mess and I run my fingers through a few times before I pour shampoo in to wash it.

"I know," she says, staring up at me, "But I'm still sorry."

I shake my head, scratching down to the scalp with foamy shampoo, "Really, don't be." I can't help smiling now, "This isn't at all how I was planning on waking you up though."

She starts laughing, her left hand resting on my lap and then she takes a breath, "No, I guess not. Thank you."

"For?" I ask as I rinse her hair clean and coat it in conditioner.

"For taking care of me. You just touched my puke..." she went silent, smile dropping from her face.

"Please," I roll my eyes, "After all of the blood in the arena, the Tracker Jackers? Remember those? The fire burns? This is nothing. Puke, pus, blood, it's all the same to me."

She grins then, "And you're washing my hair."

"It needed it anyways," I shrug, "How's your stomach?"

"It's still nervous, I think," she sighs and stops, then she sits up, her hand running over her stomach.

The hair has slipped from my hands and falls wet on her back, water dripping on the tile floor, "Katniss?" I ask unsurely as she turns and looks at me.

"I'm not sure," she says and lays back, pulling her hair back into the tub, "I'll have to look into it. Thank you, Peeta."

I lean down and kiss her softly on the lips, kiss her neck and forehead, "Anytime."

* * *

The front door of the house is thrown open wide as Katniss comes in, wind blows in from behind her and I step from around the counter to help her close the door.

She thanks me, taking her hood and scarf off as I pull the jacket from her shoulders, running my warm hands over her arms.

"So cold out there," she comments as her teeth chatter.

"You're not suppose to be out this early," I say, "Where did you go?"

"I had to talk to my mom. And I need to talk to you."

I nod and turn to finish up breakfast as she takes a seat.

"You made me some?"

"Always."

She grins wide, "Good, I'm starving."

We sit together, eating our scrambled eggs and bacon when Katniss puts her fork down and stares at me.

"I need to tell you something serious."

I look up from my plate, "Sure, what's up?"

"I uh," she pauses, "Remember when we were talking about responsibility? For the decisions I made?"

I stop in mid-sip of my milk, set it down and stare at her, "Yes?"

Her eyes dig into mine and then she states: "It's been more then eight weeks."

I shake my head, "No, it hasn't been that long. Maybe a month and a half–"

"Since my period."

"Your..." I stop again and the gears in my head turn as I realize what she means, "Your period?"

She nods slowly.

We haven't been active on a regular, day to day basis, it's been more of a spur of the moment kind of thing; making love as a slow practice instead of a daily routine. So I'd naturally just guessed that I... Missed it?

Not getting uncomfortable talking about her cycle, I stiffen my shoulders and nod back, "What were you at your mom's house for?"

She stretches out her hand, which has taken something from her pocket, and the small device is set down in front of me.

It's the size of a tiny rock or a large pebble, and it's soft screen is blue. On the corner of it is printed 'Blue = Positive, Red = Negative'.

I take the tiny device up in my hand, my large fingers brushing over the plastic surface of it and then I look at her. I see the terrified look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She's biting her lip, "Peeta–"

"I'm not upset," I say, "I mean, I'm worried, who wouldn't be? But I'm not upset."

"**I** am."

I stop stumbling over my words and look back down at the device, "You didn't seem to care much about it before."

"That was before," she says, standing up, "Peeta, this is different."

"What's different about it?"

"I'm pregnant!" She shouts, her eyes filling with tears as we stare at each other, "I feel different, Peeta. I can _feel _it. And I'm scared."

* * *

"Your mom," Katniss starts as we walk down the road back to the Victor's Village, "She didn't seem... Concerned or anything."

"Is she ever?" I shrug, "I'm just glad she said something positive."

"I wouldn't call it positive," Katniss weaves her fingers through mine and smiles, "At least she didn't explode like Haymitch did."

I tilt my head to the side and think on it for a moment before saying: "He's right though. We were careless. And we didn't think about the consequences, well we did, we just didn't think of them right."

Katniss nods, "Do you regret it?"

"Regret?" I laugh, breathe out into the cold air and then stop to look down at her, "I never regret anything I do with you, Katniss. Nothing. We made love. And... I guess it came in shape, rather then just staying non-corporeal."

Katniss's hand ran over her stomach and we continued walking, "I'm going to start getting big. That might be a problem in the arena."

"Please," I say, tossing my hand out in front of us, "Katniss, up in trees with a big belly and her hunting outfit, stringing bows and taking down Tributes? I wouldn't complain."

Her fist meets my shoulder and I wince, "Hey, play nice. Now that you're pregnant, you're going to have a bit more strength, you might actually be able to hurt me."

"Might actually be able to hurt you?" She raises a brow and jabs my side, "Like I can't now?"

I turn as she moves to punch me in the side and I duck, grab her waist to my shoulder and lift her off the ground, tossing her on like a sack of flour and begin walking, "Like you can't now," I confirm.

She sighs and lets me carry her, "This can't be right."

I pat her left thigh, "Everything I do with you is right." I carry her the rest of the way to my house, bring her in and up the stairs and toss her down on the bed. Before she has time to get up, I'm on her, kissing her.

Katniss moans in surprise and her hands touch my cheeks.

"Let's make..." I lift her sweater over her head and pull her legs open so I can settle between them, "Twins."

She starts to laugh, but when I reach under her shirt and bra a loud gasp interrupts her and it's like nothing I've heard before.

I pull back to look at her, raising a brow as I do so, she blushes.

"They're sensitive, I guess," she whispers, "Mom told me... They, they do that."

"They're sensitive?" I confirm and she nods, and then I grin victoriously. That's almost as arousing as knowing that my child is growing inside of her.

She almost screams when I lick over her left nipple and take it up in my mouth, her hands grab at my hair and I hear her whispering: "Oh please, don't stop." while it's been obvious before that she loves what I do, I've never gotten that kind of a request.

"Don't stop, please," she throws her head back against the pillow. At this point, there's nothing on this Earth that could make me stop. Nothing at all.

* * *

"What should we name it?"

I look up from my painting of her with a raised brow, "Are we actually planning that?"

She shrugs, "Not completely. I mean, what would you name a child? Peeta?"

"No," I say, "No juniors. But–" I pause to think about it and then color the line of the drawn Katniss's elbow.

"I'm not naming it after bread. Definitely not."

* * *

The voice coming from the kitchen is soft and loving and I struggle my hardest, walking down the stairs, not to startle her.

"It's not just about making it taste right," she's saying, "Sometimes the measurements can go exactly by the book and never taste as good, unless you use your hands."

My footsteps, murmured by socks, don't even manage to make the floor creak when I reach the bottom.

Katniss, standing at the counter, rubbing her completely flat stomach as she speaks, is smiling so widely that I have to grin at the look of complete happiness on her face.

"Peeta," I stop, surprised she's noticed me but then she continues, "He does it almost as bad as I do, with cookie dough, and cake better. He can't stand using a spoon or a fork much. He uses a whisk, and his hands to start off."

I move slowly up behind her.

"It works with tea too," She says, "Things just taste better. You'll understand soon enough." She pauses, "I hope."

I wrap my arms around her stomach and pull her backwards against me, "What are you doing?"

Her face is red when she turns to look up and backwards at me, "I uh... I'm making breakfast."

I take the bowl from her, "Can your stomach handle such a strong smell?"

"Raw meat seems to be the worst," Katniss says, taking a seat now, "After breakfast, you'll walk with me?"

I lean forward and kiss her lips sweetly, "Always."

* * *

I pull her feet up into my lap as she winces, take up one of her feet in my palm and begin to kneed the flesh.

"That's perfect," she sighs, stretching her legs out, "Oh, much better."

I kiss her ankles, run my fingertips along her Achilles heel and breathe warmly over the skin.

Katniss sighs again and I smile wide, "Still better?"

She nods.

* * *

"It's not big enough to hear," Katniss says softly, "It can't even kick yet."

I press my lips to her stomach and then my cheek, my ear as well and I feel her hand run through my hair.

"Besides," I say, smiling wide, "I hear you talk to it all the time, so don't pretend you're any more innocent then me."

Katniss watches me closely and then asks: "Peeta, do you sing?"

I stop and look up at her, "Sing?"

She nods, "I was wondering about it earlier, because I was singing to... The baby. And I was wondering if you have ever sung before."

"In the shower, on occasion," I kid first and then I look up at her, "Of course I've sung, Katniss."

A grin spreads over her beautiful, pale lips, "Sing now?"

"I can try. But it might sound like a train wreck."

She stares and I think for a moment before picking the most ideal song I can imagine.

_Shadows on the wall are dancing,_

_They aren't scared of me._

_Paper dolls that need some dressing,_

_Aren't as pink as me._

_I can be a lion or a tiger,_

_I can be as tall as clouds,_

_I'm the singing man,_

_I just can't be loud._

_The birds that fly,_

_The fish that swim,_

_Can't walk as good as I._

_They can't dance and sing._

_They're not as good as I._

_Shadows on the wall are dancing,_

_I'm not scared of them._

_Paper dolls that need some dressing,_

_Will never fit in them._

_They're not as good as I._

Katniss, grinning wide and staring, brushes my bangs from my face, "I'm guessing 'Mother Dear' didn't sing that song to you."

I let out a breath, "Of course not. My dad did," I smile up at her, "Most words he ever said at once. And he didn't sing much. But that one I remember most."

She stares, eyes closing a bit and then runs her fingers through my hair again.

"You look tired."

She nods, "I don't know why, I just feel so exhausted all of the time."

"Babies have that affect on women," I press my ear back down to her stomach and run my fingers across the skin, "You're so beautiful, Katniss."

* * *

"I'm fat!"

I walk out of the bedroom and grab her wrist, drag her in and shut the door, "Pregnant isn't fat."

"Then what is it?" She asks, pointing to her stomach, "Look at it, it's huge."

I chuckle, press a kiss to her ear and then get down on my knees, "I think," I say as I lift her loose shirt up, "that it's completely a turn on to me."

She rolls her eyes when I look up at her, "We haven't had sex in days."

I raise my brow, "That's not my fault? We've been training a lot, I get exhausted."

She's about to argue again when I stand and grab her up in my arms, carry her to the bed and lay her down, "that's why I cleaned today up."

"It's morning."

I nod, "Yes, your point?"

Katniss sits up, tossing her braid back and staring at me, "The whole day?"

"Yes," I grin and slide my hand under her shirt again, "I'm going to bed you for the entire day. We'll both be so exhausted by dinner."

"Don't," she starts grabbing at my wrist, "It's a big belly."

"If you think this is big, give it a few months," I laugh, "this is nothing."

I lift her shirt and rest my body between her legs, caress her stomach and kiss the soft bulge of the skin. It's obviously solid, and I rub my cheek over it lovingly.

When I glance up, to see the look in her eyes, I'm surprised at the complete tender adoration that she's staring at me with.

"Will you still think I'm pretty, even when I'm huge?"

I roll my eyes, "Especially when you're huge. You're getting more beautiful everyday. I can't keep my hands off of you."

"So you'll still want to have sex?"

"Katniss," I say, grinning, "I always want to have sex with you. When you're happy, when you're angry, when you're sad. When you're hungry. That's all I'm thinking about. When you're training, or cooking, or cleaning, or tickling me."

"That's not all the time, what about when I'm puking my guts out?"

I can't hold back the laugh that erupts and I remove the shirt from her body, spread my fingers under her bra and pinch at her tender breasts. Then I lean up and whisper in her ear: "Even then."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Yes, I wrote that little song thing. Feel free to review, even ask fer more, it's welcome! See you all Tuesday! /vanish

~KaKaVegeGurl


	18. Chapter 11 OPTION A: Distance

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option A**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

A few things!

First up on the order is the last chapter thing... fer those of you that have read it... Go you. If you HAVEN'T, take the time so see what Chapter 10.5 is about. ^_~

Next, you can go to my Fictionpress page (same username) if yer interested in the complete version of the song that Peeta sung to Katniss in 10.5. I wrote it, it's my original werk.

Also, Hudson, Mr. Noname original character that you all helped to make, IS rly named Hudson now. It became even more apparent when I started watching Glee. Finn Hudson. And that just killed it. Because I love Finn. XP

So Hudson, first name Hudson, last name is Ballard.

I've just started on the basic outline fer this story, and I hope that you will all enjoy it. But you'll have to wait on fer more some time soon.

And the school colors were picked by adding most popular and what fit right. Thank you all fer keeping with the questions!

ALSO, fer those of you that are clueless... Katniss is pregnant in Option B only.

I love you all, thanks so much fer staying around and enjoying with me! Read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week:** What are a few of the most common (fer you/yer school specifically) preppy names?

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Emily (my biggest fan): "Nice is better then 'they were shit'. XP Lol, er, iuno we'll have to see them on screen, I just hope they don't slaughter Hunger Games like HP was... Sad face. Tho HP movies are still good and I'd watch them any day... They were too fast-paced, and missed a lot of the real plot and best scenes from the books. As good as my stories? *blush* Thank you so much!"

No named review fer chapter 17: "The outtakes will mostly be in my interview at the end of PWPP, but I might write a few more *special* chapters fer readers."

* * *

**Side Notes:**

So scared of breaking it that you won't let it bend

And I wrote two hundred letters I will never send

Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper then they seem

You'd rather cover up, I'd rather let them bleed

So let me be, and I'll set you free

I am in misery

There ain't nobody

Who can comfort me, oh yeah

Why won't you answer me?

The silence is slowly killing me, oh yeah

Girl, you really got me bad

You really got me bad

Now, I'm gonna get you back

I'm gonna get you back

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Distance**

* * *

Portia measures my arms and legs, stands back and stares at me, "You've grown."

I crack a smile at this and nod, "Yeah I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

She raises her brow before smiling, "You were tall enough already." Then she straightens the high collar of my outfit for the chariot ride, "It's too bad that you look so innocent with those baby blues. Otherwise, you'd be terrifying."

I nod, "I'll work on changing those."

Portia starts to laugh before it turns into crying and she hugs me. I'm so surprised at her breakdown that I move to comfort her as she puts her hand to her mouth and backs away.

"Portia–"

She turns to the window, putting her hands down on the desk against the wall and stays silent for a long time. A time in which I stand there, feeling dumb.

"I'm sorry," she says finally, "I know it's bad enough for you, but I can't help it."

"I know."

She turns to look at me and straightens her back, "You don't show them a thing, Peeta. You've won this already, and now you're here again after they promised that you and Katniss were clean. I don't want to see smiling, waving, nothing. You're above them."

I can only nod as we leave the room.

Standing at our chariots is Finnick Odair in an unusually exposing outfit as he talks to Katniss.

When he turns from her he throws me a wink, popping a sugar cube in his mouth before walking off.

I move up to Katniss, who's face is completely red, "What did _he _want?"

She rolls her eyes though, moves to me and whispers in my ear, "He offered me sugar cubes and wanted to know all my secrets."

"Did he get any?" I ask as we climb up into our chariots.

"What do you think?"

* * *

The rest of the next few days blow by like something similar to a hurricane.

Johanna Mason, ripping her outfit from her body to stand bare-breasted in the elevator with us, makes Katniss severely uncomfortable.

By the time we make it to Haymitch and Effie, Katniss has her arms crossed, her teeth set, and is refusing to talk to me.

Seeing Darius as a new Avox only pushes her over the edge and she storms off to her room before I can follow, then she won't let me in at all.

So I sit at the dinner table awkwardly throwing conversation with Haymitch.

After she comes down to eat, she doesn't talk to me, and that night I sleep in my room, without Katniss.

At this point I don't understand exactly what I've done.

* * *

Even the next day she doesn't come out of her room until late afternoon, which she finally uses the entrance to mention that she had a hard time sleeping because of tongues being cut off.

I bow my head and keep to myself, eat in silence and listen as Haymitch and her jab at each other.

"You two try and make some friends."

"No," Katniss starts, "I don't trust any of them, I can't stand most of them, and I'd rather operate with just the two of us."

I keep my mouth shut as Haymitch shakes his head.

"That's not enough, Katniss. You're going to need more allies this time around."

"Why?"

"Because you're at a distinct disadvantage. Your competitors have known each other for years. So who do you think they're going to target first?"

* * *

In the end of it, we decide to work alone anyways, Katniss and I have grown too close to everyone now, it's hard deciding who to kill first when we're all victims. Katniss and I can't stand, at this point, getting any more close then we already are.

During the final day of training, we have our private sessions with the Gamemakers. I take it as my job to make a lasting impression.

And, with dyes in tow, I stand in the center of the room and paint out Rue's body over the ground. I paint the flowers over her small body and then I stand straight and look at the Gamemakers.

Plutarch Heavensbee is leaning over the table in shock and the rest of them stare in disbelief at me before they excuse me.

I take to my room, shower and dress for dinner where I admit to everyone that I painted Rue on the floor. And Katniss reveals what she's done in turn.

"I guess this is a bad time to mention I hung a dummy and painted Seneca Crane's name on it."

The shock of what she's done hits me, and then my entire body is filled with overwhelming pride. It's amusing that we've put both of these deaths on the head of the Gamemakers, let them know how we felt.

And even without communication, Katniss and I have proven once again that our intentions are never that far from each other's.

Cinna is the first to speak, almost swallowing his tongue, "You... hung... Seneca Crane?"

"Yes," Katniss says as she grins wolfishly, "I was showing off my new knot-tying skills, and he somehow ended up at the end of the noose."

"Oh, Katniss," Effie almost sobs, "How do you even know about that?"

"Is it a secret? President snow didn't act like it was. In fact, he seemed eager for me to know," she pauses as Effie stands and leaves the room, "Now I've upset Effie. I should have lied and said I shot some arrows."

"It's like we planned it." I whisper and katniss turns to stare at me.

"Didn't you?" Portia asks.

"No," Katniss shakes her head, staring at me, reaching her hand out and taking mine up in hers, "Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in."

I nod as she leans in and kisses me.

"And Haymitch," I say as her and I stand from the table, "We decided that we don't really want any other allies in the arena. We're going to do it alone."

That night we're both rated with twelves.

* * *

Portia finishes up the buttons on my shirt, huffing and furious.

"Portia?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "I just... It disgusts me, what they're doing to you two. It's wrong."

"It was bound to happen."

She looks up at me and smiles sadly, "You have no idea what you're wearing, do you?"

I raise my brow.

"You're in a groom's uniform."

I stop, turn to look into the mirror, run my hand over the chest pocket of my jacket.

"And Katniss will be in her wedding dress that everyone picked out." Portia buttons something on the back of my coat that makes my white dress shirt underneath more exposed over my torso, "Be ready for that."

"Thank you, Portia," I say, turning to her and pulling her into a hug.

She hugs back and we walk out of the room together.

Seeing Katniss actually in the dress is the worst part though. As if hearing about it wasn't bad enough.

She's been more comfortable with me and when she walks up, she takes my hand in hers and I give her the best smile I can muster.

We join the other Tributes and they stare at us in surprise.

Finnick starts off with: "I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing."

Katniss's eyebrows go down as she defends her stylist, "He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him."

Johanna Mason walks forward and straightens Katniss's necklace, "Make him pay for it, okay?"

Katniss looks genuinely confused as we take our seats.

The disappointment in what has happened to all of the tributes rises up with each following interview as they question the rules of this years Hunger Games.

When Katniss takes the stage and the crowd falls to pieces at seeing her in her wedding dress, she doesn't have time to speak for nearly two whole minutes.

Caesar Flickerman lets the crowd take it away for a moment. Finally, he shushes them and asks: "So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to be at my wedding," she starts, her voice wavering slightly, "but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just... the most beautiful thing?"

When she raises her hands to twirl, the dress flames up, tearing away one set, like a layer. Underneath it's dark, black, and styled the same. I have to hide my surprise at it.

Caesar Flickerman reaches out and touches the crown in surprise, "Feathers," he says, his voice distant in awe, "you're like a bird."

"A mockingjay, I think. It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token."

"Well, hats off to your stylist," Caesar says, obviously trying to hide his recognition at Cinna's style intent, "I don't think anyone can argue that that's not the most spectacular thing we've ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!"

The buzzer sounds and I stand to pass by her, feeling the feather of her new gown brush my fingers.

I shake hands with Caesar and we share an equally sympathetic smile.

"Hello Peeta," he starts calmly as we take our seats, "How about that dress?"

I raise a brow, "Well, it surprised me, but it was amazing," I pluck up a black feather from the arm of my chair.

"Yes, I'd say she flared up nicely."

"At least she wasn't overcooked," I joke as I twirl the feather around in my fingers, "I was worried there for a second."

Caesar nodded, grinning wide, "So, how have things been for you this past year?"

"Busy," I start off, "Mostly surprising. Pretty much anything else is bread related."

Caesar laughs heartily, "Yes, I saw you were having a good time talking to the Chefs of the Capitol, how does that compare with things at home?"

"Well, everything in the Capitol is amazing, that goes without saying. But home is home."

"Yes, I'd imagine," Caesar is silent for a moment before asking: "So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?"

"Uh," I keep my head up strong, "I was in shock, of course. I mean, after engaging, and being with her, finally being able to have her for myself, and the preparations for our wedding. And getting close to her family, dinners and stuff... It's just–"

I cut off mid-sentence and my eyes go to hers.

The crowd around me sobs and 'aww's sadly at the look that Katniss returns to me as my eyes brim with unshed tears.

I shake it off and look back at Caesar, "It's that bad," I let out a sad laugh and the crowd does as well, "Seeing Katniss looking so completely stunning in all of those wedding gowns, and then... It's just... It's a startling realization."

Caesar nods, "Because, now there's no wedding."

"Not just no wedding," I correct him: "No us. Nothing. I'm glad I... Got to have her... As long as I did."

The crowd breaks off into sobs again.

"I mean, can–" I pause, smiling nervously, "Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?"

The audience laughs nervously, nodding ascent and Caesar smiles.

"I feel quite certain of it."

I pause for dramatic effect before saying: "We're already married."

"But... how can that be?" Caesar asks in surprise.

"Well, it's not an official marriage. We didn't go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don't know what it's like in the other districts. But there's this thing we do in ours where we toast bread together. It's sort of tradition. We just wanted it to be important to us, because we knew that when we got married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be one. So we... We just did it."

"Were your families there?"

"No, we didn't tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss's mother would never have approved. But neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So we did it. And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or a big party can make us."

"So this was before the Quell?"

I nod, "Of course before the Quell. I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," my own face must be taking on a red color as Caesar smiles sadly, "But who could've seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and out of nowhere–I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?"

"You couldn't, Peeta," Caesar tries to comfort me, "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together."

"I'm not glad," I say, surprising him, "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially."

"Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"

I shake my head as I force the words from my mouth, "Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar. If it weren't for the baby."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

*Vanishes to Opt B*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	19. Chapter 11 OPTION B: Mood Swing

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

A few things!

First up on the order is the last chapter thing... fer those of you that have read it... Go you. If you HAVEN'T, take the time so see what Chapter 10.5 is about. ^_~

Next, you can go to my Fictionpress page (same username) if yer interested in the complete version of the song that Peeta sung to Katniss in 10.5. I wrote it, it's my original werk.

Also, Hudson, Mr. Noname original character that you all helped to make, IS rly named Hudson now. It became even more apparent when I started watching Glee. Finn Hudson. And that just killed it. Because I love Finn. XP

So Hudson, first name Hudson, last name is Ballard.

I've just started on the basic outline fer this story, and I hope that you will all enjoy it. But you'll have to wait on fer more some time soon.

And the school colors were picked by adding most popular and what fit right. Thank you all fer keeping with the questions!

ALSO, fer those of you that are clueless... Katniss is pregnant in Option B only.

I love you all, thanks so much fer staying around and enjoying with me! Read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week:** What are a few of the most common (fer you/yer school specifically) preppy names?

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Emily (my biggest fan): "Nice is better then 'they were shit'. XP Lol, er, iuno we'll have to see them on screen, I just hope they don't slaughter Hunger Games like HP was... Sad face. Tho HP movies are still good and I'd watch them any day... They were too fast-paced, and missed a lot of the real plot and best scenes from the books. As good as my stories? *blush* Thank you so much!"

No named review fer chapter 17: "The outtakes will mostly be in my interview at the end of PWPP, but I might write a few more *special* chapters fer readers."

* * *

**Side Notes:**

And she says 'oooh, I can't take no more'

Her tears like diamonds on the floor

And her diamonds bring me down

Cuz I can't help her now

She's down in it

She tried her best, and now she can't win it

Hard to see them on the ground

Her diamonds falling down

She sits down and stares into the distance

And it takes all night

And I know I could break her concentration

But it don't feel right

By the light of the moon

She rubs her eyes

Sits down on the bed and starts to cry

And there's something less about her

And I don't know what I'm supposed to do

So I sit down and I cry too

But don't let her see

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Mood Swing**

* * *

The Reaping passes with Haymitch being called and I take his place. Effie is in a state of disorder as we pass her. Thread, the Head Peacekeeper, tells us that plans have been changed.

We're not even allowed a goodbye to our families. We're out and on the train just moments afterwards.

Katniss and I, huddled together for comfort in her room, are called to dinner by Effie. Haymitch and her watch us closely as we pile our plates. It's a common enough happening, and it's more uncomfortable then ever before.

Tonight Katniss and I both have about three hours of sleep before she wakes me from my nightmares by having one of her own. And after trying to get back to sleep, being unable to, and trying again, we take into the front room to watch some of the old games.

We watch the 50th game, the second Quarter Quell, to get an idea of how it is. It's the very game that Haymitch won, in which twice the amount of Tributes were reaped.

As it ends and I shut the tv off, he makes his own presence known. I feel almost ashamed that I've been caught watching it, but he doesn't seem upset. He just seems worried.

He hugs us both close and then steps back, staring at us, more of a father then ever before. Then he swallows, "If there's any two that can make it out alive in this, it's you two."

We nod together, watching his sad expression.

It's probably considering the fact that a few of his friends over the years are going to be pitted against us, and we'll have to take them down. He must be having a hard time 'picking sides'.

I can't imagine how uncomfortable it must be for him. How it could've been for Katniss and I, if we were in his place.

* * *

The next morning we're prepped for the chariot ride.

When my team walks into the room it's clear that they're just as upset as our families, and probably have been for the better part of the morning.

Miggy, keeping his face as neutral as he can, takes more time then needed to clean my jaw of facial hair that exists to no one else but him.

Prudence just takes me up in a hug that surprises us all before moving on to scrub me down with a soft, sad sigh.

But Yessenia is the worst. Her normally clear eyes are unusually red from crying, and her makeup has soft little streaks down it where the tears have left tracks.

"Oh Peeta!" she pretty much sobs as she hugs me tight, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

I hug her back as she sets her bag down and starts to rummage through it, wiping at her eyes and bowing her head to hide her face.

They all seem to work especially more detailed then usual, trying to comfort me, trying to look for some sort of bright side. They even manage to make me laugh a few times, but I've never seen as many napkins used in the course of two hours then I have today.

Finally, they finish, and leave me in the empty room.

Seconds later, Portia comes in.

She smiles sadly and helps me into my outfit, tight and fitted as usual. She brushes off my shoulders and stares up at me, "You're above them."

I stare at her, see the struggle she's having with emotions and am surprised at her words.

"I don't want happy waving," she mumbles as she pats down my hair, "Give them nothing. No smiling, no kisses to the crowd."

I can only nod as we leave the room.

The first thing I see as I arrive at the chariots, is Finnick Odair, dressed in a sort of... Sexual, fitted, exposing form of knot work, talking to Katniss.

Her brow is raised and when she sees me, she grins, pushes past him and pulls me down into a kiss that has me curling the toes attatched the only leg I've got. I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her close.

Finnick, giving us a surprising look at first, throws me a suggestive wink before walking away with a handful of little white squares.

"What did he want?" I ask her as she pulls away finally and helps me up into the carriage.

"He offered me sugar cubes."

I raise my brow, "Sugar cubes?"

She nods and smiles wide, "I took a few," and then holds out her hand to me.

"Just to spite him."

I can't help laughing, "He looks pretty outrageous in that outfit, doesn't he?"

"Isn't that the idea?"

As sexually attractive as he is, I have a feeling that Finnick is going to be one of the biggest challenges to bring down in this game. He's unusually young for a Tribute, besides us, and he's as healthy as a horse. He's also proven to be ruthless. Not up to Cato's standards, but he'll be just as much of a threat. If not more.

The chariot ride is unusual, seeing the older people dressed in flashy outfits that were probably made more for younger teenagers.

Katniss's hand in mine is like a vice, unrelenting, needing my support. I squeeze back and stare forward, unwavered by the crowds of people cheering for us.

* * *

The rest of the night is a blur, meeting Johanna Mason, who takes her time to undress down to her shoes and has Katniss raising a brow in annoyance. Katniss, who couldn't care less, takes my hand as we exit the elevator and join with Haymitch and Effie.

"Looks like they've got you a matched set this year."

I look up at Effie's comment and my eyes meet Darius', one of our Peacekeepers from District 12. But what on Earth is he doing here?

His mouth is closed tight in an awkward way and I realize that they've taken him... And cut out his tongue.

Katniss's hand, sweaty in mine, starts to shake. I note Haymitch grabbing her other wrist and my eyes go up to Katniss's as she stares in horror.

She grabs my hand back, twists her other one free from Haymitch and drags me to her room where, once the door is closed, she breaks into a fit of tears and I move to comfort her.

It's her anger, however, that surprises me. As she punches weakly at my chest, she's punching harder before she turns, screaming, furious, and takes up one of the drawers from a desk and slams it sideways into a wall.

She kicks the rest of the desk over, grabs up a vase of flowers and slams it against the door.

I reach out and grab up her, she's screaming hysterically now, yelling curse words at the top of her lungs.

"You fucking monster!" She roars as the sobs force her to stop, her chest heaving with them.

I've never imagined her so angry, never imagined she could be so violent. Especially to inanimate objects. It must be her hormones...

"Oh, god Peeta," she grabs my shirt, I sooth my hand over her back as she calms down.

Katniss pulls away, tears on her cheeks, still in her coal uniform, looking completely terrifying, and so utterly vulnerable. Her anger completely dissipated.

"Katniss," I brush her tears away as my own fall and she gets up.

She rips the outfit from her body and storms to the dresser naked, her lithe form moving with the strides, rummaging around to find something to wear.

I walk behind her and take her shoulders up in my palms, massaging the tense muscles. She stops in her search and leans back into it.

She's got knots worked up and I move my right arm around to grasp her left collarbone, pressing it hard as I kneed the muscle on the opposite end, digging my palm in, working the knot loose.

A low moan escapes her as I rub it away, I work the opposite side until she's leaning back against me.

Then she starts to cry.

I wrap my arms around her to comfort her as she breaks down into a fit of sobs.

There's a sudden knock and Effie chimes, "Dinner!"

* * *

That night I hold her, keep my arms around her and my back against my chest until it's morning.

Morning, in which Katniss rises and rushes to the bathroom to puke.

I get up, follow after her as she makes it to the toilet and I grab her hair around to the back of her neck just in time.

Her body shudders violently and I reach around a second time to hold her bangs from her face.

She pulls back, grabbing the towel I hold out to her, wiping her mouth, folding the towel and wiping her face of sweat.

"Are you alright?" I ask softly, "I mean, is that morning sickness again?"

She shakes her head, "No, that wasn't morning sickness."

I hand her down a glass of water and she washes her mouth out, gurgling and spitting the water back in. Use to it enough now, I flush the toilet and rinse the cup clean, giving her a second one to drink.

She smiles up at me, "Thank you, Peeta."

I rub her stomach and back, lift her into my arms and carry her back to bed.

With her rolled up and warm against me, I kiss her forehead and run my palm over her stomach soothingly.

"I don't want to be around them."

"I know," I whisper softly, "But it's really kind of inevitable."

She nods silently and then her hand touches mine over her stomach, "I hope she has your eyes."

"She?" I ask in surprise.

"I think it's gonna be a girl."

I roll us over so I'm on top of her and pull her up into a hug, whispering into her ear: "I don't entirely care what it is, he, she, but I'm curious to see the mixing." I pull back and look at her, "Whatever the baby looks like, it will be beautiful. It will have you as a mother. And the only thing more beautiful then that is having you as a wife."

She grins as I kiss her lips, and as I stare at the smile, I see it changing. It tugs down slowly and then she's crying again.

I hold her close in my arms as she descends into sobs, she's a complete wreck and I try to consol her but she moves away and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

"We really should go down. Haymitch will be furious as it is," she says as she moves to get dressed.

She closes the bathroom door behind her and I'm sitting up, watching it when I feel the tell-tale trickle of tears falling down my own cheeks.

Maybe I'm having mood swings too, but I get it. Her words before were beautiful: 'I hope she has your eyes'.

But, no matter what the baby's eye color is, I'll never be looking into them.

* * *

"Is it impossible to ask you two to try and make friends?"

Katniss and I stop walking and turn to look at Haymitch.

"You're kidding?" She asks.

Haymitch nods, "I hoped you'd consider joining a group. Making alliances–"

"No," Katniss interrupts him and takes my hand, "I don't need anyone else on my team. We'll be fine on our own."

And with that, we leave to the elevator to go down to the training room, where we split off to learn as much as we can.

* * *

During the final day of training, we have our private sessions with the Gamemakers. I take it as my job to make a lasting impression.

And, with dyes in tow, I stand in the center of the room and paint out Rue's body over the ground. I paint the flowers over her small body and then I stand straight and look at the Gamemakers.

Plutarch Heavensbee is leaning over the table in shock and the rest of them stare in disbelief at me before they excuse me.

Waiting in Katniss's room, I'm there for nearly twenty minutes when she enters and lets out a sigh of relief when her eyes meet mine. She rushes to me and pulls me into a hug.

"What did you do?" She asks, looking at my hands. I've washed them but the dye is still coloring my flesh, "What did you paint?"

"You didn't see it?"

Katniss shakes her head, "No, they covered it up with one of the big mats, what did you paint?"

"I painted Rue," I whisper softly, tucking her bangs out of her face, "And you?"

She shrugs, "I hung Seneca Crane."

I pull back in surprise, "You did what?"

"I took a dummy and hung it, and then painted Seneca Crane's name on it."

The grin spreads over my lips and I can't help laughing, "That's outrageous, you'd think we'd planned it or something."

"They probably do."

That night we're both rated with twelves.

* * *

Portia buttons the shirt up, stands back, and glares.

She's fuming, furious, it's a look that I've never seen on her and it surprises me.

"Are you okay?" I ask hesitantly.

She shakes her head and looks up at me, "I'm not, this is cruel, what they're doing to you two."

I frown in confusion, "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"What you're wearing," she says as her fingers wrap around the knot of the tie on my neck, "It's what a groom wears... For their wedding."

I blanch, stare at her as a cold chill creeps down my spine like a trickle of ice water.

"So Katniss," Portia says, touching my cheek sadly, "Be ready to see her in her wedding dress."

My teeth grind together in anger and I nod, "You're right."

"Right?"

I nod, "Cruel."

The pain of it really doesn't hit hard until I actually see her in the dress though.

Her hands folded over her slightly protruding stomach. To anyone paying attention, looking close enough, the pregnancy is obvious. And she's trying to hide it, but she can't.

I walk forward, kiss her forehead and take her hands in mine, "I love you."

"I love you," she responds.

Cinna whispers to me before we enter the elevator: "Tell me that you're not going to try and hide this."

I turn to him and shake my head, "Of course not."

We join the other Tributes and they stare at us in surprise for seconds before gasping.

Finnick is in the middle of saying: "I can't believe Cinna put you–" and he stops. His lips tighten and his eyes widen, "Are you pregnant?"

Johanna Mason walks forward and stares at us, "Well, she's not fat, so I'm guessing that she's pregnant, yeah."

Katniss's face flushes red and then the rest of the Tributes are moving forward to look.

I step in the way to stop them, standing between them and Katniss and putting my hand out, "Please, it's bad enough."

They stop and their heads bow to us.

"Besides," Katniss says softly, "It wasn't Cinna's choice. President Snow made him."

The fury then is obvious, and as the interviews roll through, it's clear that everyone is struggling to keep quiet about what they know, they hide their hate. Comments about 'star-crossed lovers', 'young love', 'wrong-doing' is constant.

It honestly surprises me, how furious they are for us.

During the interviews Katniss leans over to me, "Do you want me to?"

I nod, "You're the mother," I say, smiling sadly and kissing her.

When Katniss takes the stage, gasps are heard as she keeps on hand to her stomach and then sobs break out. The crowd becomes mush as they start crying.

Caesar Flickerman's eyes almost pop out of their sockets and he lets the crowd take it away for a moment. Finally, he shushes them and asks: "So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"It's hard," she starts, her voice wavering slightly, "to convey anything that people don't already know. There's no wedding now, but at least you get to see me in my dress."

When she raises her hands and the dress flames up, tearing away one set down to a dress that is in black instead of white, I have to hide my surprise at it. In this color, it's less exposing of her stomach, but she clutches at her small belly anyways.

Caesar Flickerman reaches out and touches the crown in surprise, "Feathers, you're like a bird."

"A mockingjay, I think. It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token."

He smiles as his eyes go down to her hands, "And..." he pauses.

Katniss nods, "Yes, I'm..." she blushes softly, "I'm pregnant."

The buzzer sounds as the crowd explodes again and I stand to pass by her, taking her cheek, kissing it, and stepping onto the stage.

I shake hands with Caesar and we share an equally sympathetic smile.

"Hello Peeta," he starts calmly as we take our seats, "I can't imagine how hard it is for you to sit up here today. Especially after what Katniss just said," he looks closely at me, "It's true, then?"

"Yes," I confirm and the crowd sobs in response, "It's true. She's really pregnant."

Caesar stares at me and then to her, "you're not even married though."

"Katniss and I are," I say softly, "it's not a completely official marriage, but we have this thing we do in our district where we toast bread together. It's sort of tradition. We just wanted it to be important to us, because we knew that when we got married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be one. So we... Well we just did it."

"And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper could make us."

"So this was before the Quell?"

I nod, "Of course before the Quell. We got married before, but it was quite a bit after that that she uh... that we..." My own face must be taking on a red color as Caesar smiles sadly, "Before the baby happened."

The crowd laughs softly and Caesar nods.

"I can only imagine how hard you're going to fight for her, Peeta."

"Yes," I say, bowing my head, "It's impossible to explain the way I feel right now. Except that I feel partially sorry that anybody has to compete against me in the Arena this time. I'm not going to rest until I know she's safe again."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Have a safe week everybody! Review please! ^^ Don't ferget. See you lot next Tuesday!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	20. IMPORTANT: Authors Note

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Important Author's Note  
**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

I hate to ask this from all of you, it's tedious and stupid. And I just don't do this. But I want to get it out there.

Fanfiction dot net is having an error problem. It's annoying, I know, there's nothing I can do about it. So, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to start posting the chapters on hungergamesfanfiction dot com. I need to do big time adding to that site, which I'll do over the weekend.

I PREFER everyone to read here however, and review here. I'll stay true first and foremost HERE. FF is my home. But I want something else there to turn to, since this crap happens.

So, fer those of you on TWITTER, please, ADD me to Twitter (KaKaVegeGurl, of course), I'll keep you all updated. A few have added me already. But I think Twitter is a good place to keep all of you well informed about updates elsewhere, so that you can actually read the stuff I post when it's posted, instead of waiting fer FF to get their shit together.

Savvy? Savvy. Be safe, I love you all!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

Fin.


	21. Chapter 12 Option A: Unusual Alliance

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option A**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Shocker, there's really only a few more chapters to go!

So guess what that means? You all need to start submitting yer questions fer me fer this time around! Feel free to pm, or email, or comment on FB, or tweet me. I'll be sure to throw those in. Scenes that were missed and you wanted to see, feel free to ask fer those as well. Alternated scenes? You can ask fer those too. Hell, ask fer anything you want. Even one-shots or whatever. Other pairings?

I'm up fer it all.

Also, wanting to give my love to rawrzez, yer fucking awesome and I love you to death. ^^ And er, couldn't fit 'you know what' in, so I haz can write a special fer later. ^_~

I think that's it, hope you all are enjoying the release of the HP DH Part 1 dvd. You know I got it, have to watch the deleted scenes and stuff now. ^_^ Just have no time at all.

So, I think that's it, nothing else to report, if I remember something else I'll get it in the next author's note. XP

I love you all so, so much fer the endless love and support, join the few following me on twitter, or stalk me on facebook like so many others, message me on MSN, whatever floats yer boat; I'm around.

Now read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **Gonna stick with last weeks. O.o What are a few of the most common (fer you/yer school specifically) preppy names?

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Emily (my biggest fan): "Yeah that is kinda sad face. Didn't know you were Australian, that's totally awesome. Rly need to learn more about my readers. Glee is win tho. And apparently a lot of people rly like the interview scenes. Hope you all enjoy these parts just as much. I like the name Hudson, it fucking grew on me FAST. Now I can't shake it. Enjoy! Love, love you!"

BarryTrotter: "thank fucking gods you weren't a one-hit wonder. You came back fer more. /heart Yeah, Hudson, you fucking tagged it, and fast. I totally knew yer name wasn't Barry Trotter. O.o But that's a silly name on it's own. So, hello Nicole! /wave /hug and it's totally friggin AWESOME that Emily brought you into this, I love her so much. ^^ Thank you so much fer being static and reading along! There's much more, I hope to have yer reviews to see throughout the experience. ^^"

ramsdra: "Don't we all? ^^ Glad you reviewed! Hope you stick around!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Oil streaked daisies covered the living room wall

He put water-colored roses in her hair

He said, "Love, I love you, I want to give you mountains, the sunshine, the sunset too

I just want to give you a world as beautiful as you are to me

'Cause they were painters and they were painting themselves

A lovely world.

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Unusual Alliance**

* * *

Both Katniss and the crowd's reactions were gold. The tears I managed to fake were just as famously met. And when I walked from the stage, I only took a moment to ask her if what I'd done was wrong.

Instead of being met with criticism, as I'd expected, Katniss seemed more amused and grateful then anything.

That night I eased our bodies together and treasured her form against mine. Because it's more then inevitable that it will be for the last time. I couldn't take my sight or hands from her. Stared deep into those beautiful gray eyes as she struggled to remain silent, and failed.

And this is the second time that I have to set my life down and save her the best I can. And I will. It's not a complaint, just acknowledgment. And maybe a bit of sorrow.

* * *

The skin tight outfit is clinging to places that I don't think anything on my body ever has. The heavy belt around my waist is snuggled tightly against my lower abs and Portia stands back to observe me.

"I'm guessing it won't be cold."

I nod in agreement and she stares up at me sadly. Her eyes are worn out from tears and I move forward to hug her before anything else is said. She pauses, only for a moment, before she hugs back tightly.

"I've always thought of you like a mother, Portia," I say, pulling away to look her in the eyes, "You were so supportive and kind to me last year, and throughout then, up until now. I just want you to know that you mean a lot to me."

Her eyes fill with tears but I smile as adoringly as I can.

"I've never had the attention and care, from my mom, that you give me. And last year... when I accidentally called you mother... I wasn't joking. It was a slip."

"Peeta–" She laughs but I cut her off.

"I love you more then her, Portia," I tell her, cracking a smile, "And I'm never going to see you again."

She tries to say something back but when the tears brim in extreme amount, she shuts her mouth and nods. She waits for a second before saying in her quivering, sob wrecked voice: "You protect her in there, Peeta. And protect your child."

"You know I will."

We stand for a moment before Portia helps to position me on a circular metal plate, "Protect it like I couldn't protect you."

The words take me by surprise, because they can easily be translated to: 'I've always thought of you as a son, too', and I can't say anything back because the glass slides down, cutting us off from each other. So I give her a stare of acknowledgment instead.

She points up and I look away as I'm lifted into the arena.

The first thing I think, when I see the arena's face, is: _I'm screwed_.

I wait in surprise and fear, staring out at the vast body of water in front of me, out to the small stretch of land ahead. There's beach space, and then a jungle, and it's hot.

The buzzer sounds and I want more then anything to just jump out and swim, but I can't. I watch as the only tributes I can see from my spot dip into the water and swim for the shore.

Then I sit, and wait. I want to try, but when I lower my feet down into the water, fear fills me and I watch out across the sand as the fight moves on without me.

Hardly any time has passed before Katniss runs to the end of the shore, staring out at me and preparing to swim, throwing down her daggers and then Finnick stops her. He doesn't attack her though, which is relieving, I guess.

But then he jumps into the water himself and starts for me.

It doesn't take long and when he pulls up to look at me, he reaches out his hand, "Come on, Peeta," he flashes a brilliant smile and I bend down to step into the water but he doesn't wait for my fear to settle before his arm is around my torso and he propels us through the water, towards the shore.

His arm is clasped tight, steady and unmoving around me as we swim through the water. The only thing I can really do is wait in amusement as he slows us down and Katniss is helping me up onto unsteady feet.

I whip the hair back from my face and hug her tight, "Hello, again," I joke as I kiss her softly, "Is this an alliance?"

"Apparently Haymitch did some pre-planning," Katniss says with a raised brow.

"Anyone else a part of this alliance that I knew nothing about?"

"Only Mags, I think," Katniss says, pointing out to the woman moving slowly towards us.

When she reaches us, Finnick bends down to lift her from the water as though she's seemingly weightless.

Mags, spluttering and wet, but amused, pats Finnick on the side saying: "S'good in tin wadder, e'bult mase you bob like uh fish."

Katniss looks confused but I can stop the laugh the erupts from my chest as Finnick nods.

"She's right, look. Someone figured it out." He motions to Beetee, who's flailing around in the waves, moving slowly to the shore.

"What?" Katniss asks in confusion.

"The belts," Finnick reports, "They're flotation devices."

Which means I didn't need big-man-arms here hauling me to shore...

Katniss hands me over a knife, a bow and a sheath of arrows just as Mags pulls her arm to get her attention.

"Yawl cun give me they'awl," she mumbles inaudibly, "Yawl, they'awl."

Katniss nods finally and hands her the awl she has.

I move to the front of our little growing group and take off into the jungle, feet planting before each other on the squishy ground below. I use my long knife to cut a path for us as we take deep in. Just behind me I can hear Finnick breathing steadily and Katniss's soft, almost weightless footfalls behind us both.

We climb steadily, breaking every now and then, but it's when Katniss screams my name from behind me that my sword meets something that is neither vine, nor tree, and my vision goes black.

It's amazing how quickly everything around you can disappear.

The next thing I know, realization rushes to me. I've hit something, a force field, and now I'm on my back.

Lips press close to mine and air fills my lungs, hands press down on my chest and the mouth meets mine again. And if I could kiss back, I have no complete control over anything to do so.

Instead, the force of air rushes out of me as I sit up to cough and I'm opening my eyes to see Finnick stepping back. I turn to see Katniss, who's buried in a fit of sobs.

"Careful," I manage to get out as I try to hold myself upright, "there's a force field up ahead."

"You were dead!" Katniss shouts hysterically, running to me and grabbing my face, "Your heart stopped!"

"Well, it seems to be working now," I whisper into her hair, hugging her with one arm, "It's all right, Katniss."

She doesn't answer me as she cries and I grab her face back from my chest to look into her eyes, "Katniss?"

"It's okay," Finnick says, "It's just her hormones, from the baby."

Katniss starts to argue but stops when Finnick's eyebrows raise up his forehead.

* * *

That night we all settle down after a long day of travel, no water, and a limited amount of food.

The only gift that we've gotten by way of parachute is a small metal flute looking instrument, which seems useless at first.

Katniss finally gives up on it and settles down for the night. I take seat behind her and massage my palm down in between her shoulders to relieve the knots that have been forming all day.

Her breath, soft and tense when I hit a significant knot, lulls me down into a state of comfort.

And it's a short enough time when she sits upright without warning. "A spile!" she shouts, startling us all from our gentle silence.

Finnick frowns, "What?"

Katniss takes it up from the ground and observes it, "It's a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out. Well, the right sort of tree."

"Sap?" Finnick asks, still confused.

"To make syrup," I supply, "But there must be something else inside these trees."

_Water._

Immediately, we're at it, cutting into one of the trees with Mags's awl, putting in the spile when we're done, and adjusting it until warm water flows out like a faucet.

Not long after, I've curled up close to Katniss and fallen asleep.

* * *

"Peeta," I hear the soft whisper.

"Finnick, Mags, get up." It's Katniss.

A sort of... paining prick is against my face and I'm startled to sit up just as Katniss gasps, "Run!" She shouts, "Run!"

I get up slowly, wiping the sleep from my eyes when she grabs my arms, "What is it? What is it?"

Katniss moves me away from whatever it is as she says: "Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!"

I stumble forward, trip every time I lift a leg, my body's stiff and pained. Screams tear up my leg, over my arms and spine as I falter more significantly and the next thing I see is the forest floor, flush against my face.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts, her hands grabbing me to help me up.

I stand, brush my arms off and barely glance her way as we continue on. The stinging, more prominent now, makes my numbed, sick body shudder.

Finnick's hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me ahead. I'm unable to make words, black splotches covering my vision as we stumble around, through the jungle, away from the odd fog.

I know, at some point, that I'm lifted up and off the ground, carried by him. He hands me his trident at another point, and I manage to keep it clasped in my hands as darkness swells over my vision in short spurts.

I open my eyes once it seems all is black, startled open by a scream, or a cannon, or some significant sound.

Once I'm on the ground again, and Finnick has stopped running, I roll off of him and stare up into the black roof of the jungle, the odd creatures staring down, and I stare back.

After a long while, I reach my hand out and mutter: "Monkeys." But I don't think it comes out right.

Barely holding onto my wake, I crawl away from the jungle, towards the beach and water. I think they follow, but I'm not sure. Water meets my palms, forearms, then shoulders and face. And it burns.

I don't care much about it though because the pain slowly ebbs and as Katniss walks into the surf, I join, slowly letting my body relax down deep in the water.

* * *

After we've brought Finnick into the water with us, I take to the jungle to tap another tree for water. It's slow going, and I've just about got it when I hear Katniss from the beach.

"Peeta," she says softly, "I need your help with something."

"Okay," I say, looking back to her for only a moment, "Just a minute. I think I've just about got it. Yes, there. Have you got the spile?"

"I do," Katniss whispers, "But we found something you'd better take a look at. Only move toward us quietly, so you don't startle it."

The tone of her voice alarms me and I look up to meet her gaze. Her eyes are wide with fear, and her hands are up, as if settling an angered bear.

"Okay," I say, turning to leave the tree. I've walked nearly to the edge of the forest when I feel a sort of... Existence. Behind me. Something watching.

I turn back to see the monkeys in the trees, staring down at me.

They act at once, howling in rage, dropping down from the trees, and as one moves in Katniss shouts: "Mutts!" and her arrow flies, hitting the monkey closest to me and taking it out.

I palm my sword and sling it fast through the neck of one monkey and the shoulder of another. I turn to see one clawing at Katniss's leg and don't even hesitate to stab it solidly through the brain.

We form a triangle with our bodies and continue relentlessly until Katniss turns and says, "Peeta! Your arrows!" And I've forgotten about them.

I could've been stringing out arrows this whole time, but she's better and she needs them more, so I move to get them off of my back for her.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts again.

I look up this time as the female morphling addict jumps between me and a monkey that's just a few breaths short of taking me out.

Blood is the first thing I feel. Not fear, surprise, or confusion. Blood. Splattering over my nose, my lips, cheeks, and neck. I drop the quiver of arrows from my shoulder and plunge my sword into the monkey's back, stab it twice, three times, four, until the body becomes limp.

I kick it with my boot and turn to look out into the empty, quiet darkness, "Come on, then!" I coax, "Come on!" But the jungle remains still. Done.

"Get her," Katniss whispers, her hand on my shoulder to calm me, "We'll cover you."

I bend down and lift the dying morphling into my arms, carry her down to the beach and lay her out.

Katniss moves to her and cuts open her jumpsuit to get at the wound, but it's obvious that there's nothing we can do.

The morphling stares up at me as I bend down to push the hair from her face, I try to think of something to say, to comfort her, and I remember well how she likes painting.

"With my paint box at home," I start softly, "I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby's skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water. One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see," I take a breath and try to smile, but fail. "I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more then that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one."

The morphling takes her eyes from me to draw out swirling circles over her chest with the blood that she's producing.

"I haven't figured out a rainbow yet," I continue softly, "They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air," I stop speaking when she reaches up and draws something onto my cheek. Blood runs in trails down her arm as she holds it up to paint me.

I don't know what it is she makes, but as my eyes fill with tears and my stomach lurches at the act, I smile the best I can, "Thank you," I whisper to her and see her eyes light up happily, "That looks beautiful."

And then she's dead.

I sit, staring down as her arm falls and her eyes close.

The canon rocks me as I pick her up, I hold her body close as I take her out into the water to let her body float away. Then I join Katniss back on the sand and she kisses me, trying her best to comfort, hand running through my hair as I can't stop the sobs from wracking my body.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Holy crap this is a lot longer then I expected. It's prolly going to be longer then Opt B next chapter, because I have some severe catching up to do.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	22. Chapter 12 Option B: Trekking

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Shocker, there's really only a few more chapters to go!

So guess what that means? You all need to start submitting yer questions fer me fer this time around! Feel free to pm, or email, or comment on FB, or tweet me. I'll be sure to throw those in. Scenes that were missed and you wanted to see, feel free to ask fer those as well. Alternated scenes? You can ask fer those too. Hell, ask fer anything you want. Even one-shots or whatever. Other pairings?

I'm up fer it all.

Also, wanting to give my love to rawrzez, yer fucking awesome and I love you to death. ^^ And er, couldn't fit 'you know what' in, so I haz can write a special fer later. ^_~

I think that's it, hope you all are enjoying the release of the HP DH Part 1 dvd. You know I got it, have to watch the deleted scenes and stuff now. ^_^ Just have no time at all.

I love you all so, so much fer the endless love and support, join the few following me on twitter, or stalk me on facebook like so many others, message me on MSN, whatever floats yer boat; I'm around.

Now read on and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **Gonna stick with last weeks. O.o What are a few of the most common (fer you/yer school specifically) preppy names?

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Emily (my biggest fan): "Yeah that is kinda sad face. Didn't know you were Australian, that's totally awesome. Rly need to learn more about my readers. Glee is win tho. And apparently a lot of people rly like the interview scenes. Hope you all enjoy these parts just as much. I like the name Hudson, it fucking grew on me FAST. Now I can't shake it. Enjoy! Love, love you!"

BarryTrotter: "thank fucking gods you weren't a one-hit wonder. You came back fer more. /heart Yeah, Hudson, you fucking tagged it, and fast. I totally knew yer name wasn't Barry Trotter. O.o But that's a silly name on it's own. So, hello Nicole! /wave /hug and it's totally friggin AWESOME that Emily brought you into this, I love her so much. ^^ Thank you so much fer being static and reading along! There's much more, I hope to have yer reviews to see throughout the experience. ^^"

ramsdra: "Don't we all? ^^ Glad you reviewed! Hope you stick around!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

And if you have a minute why don't we go  
Talk about it somewhere only we know?  
This could be the end of everything  
So why don't we go, somewhere only we know

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Trekking**

* * *

Katniss pulls the slip on and I tie the back of it into a bow.

We've both been nearly silent since the interviews, ate dinner sitting side by side, knees touching, fingers brushing. But neither of us have felt up to talking.

The weight of everything keeps pressing down on me with each moment that passes. Waking in the mornings before now to Katniss's body purging, I'm concerned for how it will be in the Arena for her.

Her stomach is harder then normal, only a slight, small, barely noticeable bulge. Hardly even something to weight her down, but it worries me all the same.

Her mood is also something that concerns me. If she can't stay focused, if she gets sensitive, or loud. We have to be on our top game inside the arena. I have to be even better, I can't stop the bubbling feeling of urge to protect her.

And the reality of this all, that's the worst. I'm going into an arena of other, well-practiced, smart individuals, and I'm going to have to fight them. I'm going to have to win. Not all of them are the best or at the top of their game, but a choice few will be. And they'll be working together.

The other reality is that no matter what happens, I won't come out alive. I have to fight until my last breath.

And then the last reality; it's all Snow's doing. And there's nothing I can do to stop him. He's put the woman I love in danger, and now my unborn child. And I can't do a thing about it.

Katniss keeps trying to be reassuring, taking my hand. But I know it's killing her too. This is my last night with her before we have to face the arena tomorrow; maybe my last night completely. I have to make it count for something.

I slide my fingers adoringly down her smooth, hairless arms. I kiss the back of her neck, lay my cheek against the warm skin of her shoulder, and let a breath out down her spine.

She leans back into me and then turns around in my arms, she presses her soft, sweet lips to mine and pulls me down to her height. Her hands unbutton my shirt, slip it from my arms and then she breaks our kiss.

"Relax," she whispers as she unbuttons my pants, removes them as well, and weaves our fingers together, motioning me to the bed.

I climb in with her and she allows me to lay my head down in her lap.

Her fingers run softly through my hair as I wrap my large hand around her legs.

And I fall asleep.

* * *

Portia helps me into the skin tight outfit, zips up the front, and puts this significant, heavy belt around my waist.

I keep my head down, afraid to look up in her tear rimmed eyes. But when it's announced that it's time, I kiss her cheek and pull her into a warm hug.

She's surprised, of course, but hugs back without a second's wait.

"I've always thought of you..." I say as I pull away to stare down at her, "Like a mother."

Her eyes widen and she smiles sadly as the tears finally slide down her cheeks. She nods because it's all she can manage.

"You've been so kind to me, so caring and comforting, supportive," I tell her, wiping the tears away, "I wanted you to know that you mean a lot to me. I've never had the attention and care that you give, from my mom. And last year... I accidentally called you mother, and I wasn't joking. I meant it."

"Peeta–" She laughs but I cut her off.

"I love you," I tell her and crack a smile, "And I'm never going to see you again."

Portia nods sadly and tries to smile back but her lips quiver and it just makes more tears fall down her cheeks, "You protect her in there, Peeta," she pulls in a shaky breath as she cries, "Protect your child."

"You know I will."

Portia positions me on a circular metal plate, "Protect it like I couldn't protect you."

The words surprise me as the glass slides down and I stare at her, because it's words that tell me: 'I've always thought of you as a son, too'.

I bow to her ever slightly as I'm lifted into the arena.

The first thing I think, when I see the arena's face, is: _I'm glad Katniss taught me how to swim over this short break_.

I wait, staring out at the vast body of water in front of me, out to the small stretch of land ahead. It's a jungle and it's hot.

I ready my legs, relax my arms, and the buzzer sounds.

Not a complete expert yet, I dive in without a second thought and immediately rush to the shore. It's probably lacking in grace, but I pull myself out of the water and run down the sand to a pile of weapons, grab up two bows and sets of arrows just as Katniss reaches me.

She snags one of each from my hands, strings it tight, and _bam!_

I turn just in time to see her arrow fly free, hit directly through the brain of the man from District 5, and his body swings backwards into the sand with a painful crack.

She grabs my hand, "We need to go."

"Right," I say. I reach down, grab up a few weapons, and we run directly into the jungle before us. I flick an arrow back behind us at a figure running forward and it hits him in the leg. Unaware and uncaring of who it is, I string a second and watch for anyone else following.

As we trek through the jungle, I'm only footsteps behind her and pulling my sheath of arrows onto my shoulder, setting my bow right in my hands and Katniss stops.

"Climb!" She shouts. She tugs the sword she's been using to cut our path into her belt and instead, climbs through the vines and starts to scale a tree. I don't even hesitate to follow.

Neither of us stop before we're nearly twelve yards up, but I'm the first to have my arrow out, comfortable sitting position set, and string tight as a man passes the area below us. His face is shadowed but I let out a gathered breath and release.

My arrow hits down through his shoulder and he collapses.

"One more," Katniss advises, setting her bow up as well.

I string mine again and aim the second through the back of his heart. His body jerks but remains still against the floor of the jungle.

Katniss lets out a sigh of relief and smiles, relaxing her arms. Then she gasps and ducks just as a dagger lodges itself into the branch behind where her head was.

I drop from the tree like a rock, land on my feet and stand with my bow and arrow set on Finnick Odair.

He pulls his trident out of the neck of the male morphling from six and takes a few steps back from us.

"Finnick," Katniss says in surprise as she joins my side, "you got him."

Finnick smiles, putting his hands up in defeat, "And it looks like you've got me."

I lower my arrow a fraction and step back, "Come on, Katniss." Finnick looks surprised as she backs up and joins me.

We leave him there and jog softly through the jungle to gain some distance, I'm just ahead, clearing the path and breathing calmly through my nose.

Katniss laughs softly as she follows close behind, "You let him live."

I shrug in response, "It just didn't feel right to kill him like that. He saved us, maybe unintentionally, but he still did."

She nods, "I know what you mean. Face to face is different then up in the tree, or defending. Especially when you're indebted to them."

"It's like with Thresh and Rue, someone has to have some respect in this place," I confirm, "I'm not a heartless monster like some of the people I know. I can't kill in cold blood like that."

Katniss stops and touches my shoulder, kisses me softly on the cheek and grins, "Of course you aren't."

I smile down at her and then raise my brow in surprise when she strings her bow and shoots something over my shoulder, "What the–?"

She shrugs as a creature falls from the branches of a tree, "Food."

"That works," I chuckle nervously as she takes to preparing the... animal. Whatever it is, it's nothing I've seen before.

I take to something I understand and set up a simple cooking fire, "It's so hot in here I almost regret cooking. We're gonna need water soon."

"There's some nearby."

I look back to Katniss, "how do you know that?"

"The creatures nose," she says nonchalantly, "It was wet."

Understanding, I set down my quiver of arrows and sit on the ground of the jungle floor.

As I sit, watching the meat cook, a small parachute falls down into my hands and I hold it up to see a bowl with a lid sealed on top.

Katniss grins and takes it from my hand, opens it and smells the spice, "Basil." A flavor she's been craving for the past month.

"Haymitch," I roll my eyes and smile wide, "Can't say he's not thinking of you."

Katniss nods and pulls the meat up close to sprinkle it with season, she places it back and then we sit silently together as it cooks.

When it's done, we each tear up pieces and eat, enjoying the fact that both of us are still alive, we listen intensely around us for any sign of company or pursuit.

The moment we're finished, we pack the rest of the meat up tight in the parachute, put the fire out, and continue on.

We circle the area, giving wide birth, and don't find a single drop of water. No tiny lake, no river, nothing. The jungle is hot, sticky, and heavy with sounds as we finally give up searching and settle down for the night.

The seal of the Capitol appears in the sky and the faces of the dead start to display. The man from District 5 that Katniss killed, the morphling that Finnick killed from 6, both from eight and nine, the woman from 10, and Seeder from 11. I can't even tell if they're any I've killed because I wasn't taking any time to recognize who I was aiming for. Technically, there's only one person that I'll ever aim my arrows away from. And that's all I care about.

Katniss huffs as the anthem plays and looks up, "Another parachute already?"

I stand to grab the object from out of the air and look at it, hold it out to Katniss and she grins wide.

"What is it?" I ask.

She takes it and nods, "It's a spile."

"Oh!" I snag it from her hands without another word and move to the closest tree. I use my daggers to dig deep into the body of it until the spile is able to fit and then I adjust it so that water runs out.

"Use this."

I look back and see that Katniss has grabbed a large, odd-shaped leaf from one of the trees that is easily deemed 'cup worthy'.

Once our thirst is quenched and we're both seated comfortably, Katniss nods off to sleep and I sit awake, listening and watching around us. Through the dark, my eyes imagine shapes, but I'm sure to trust my ears more. And I hear nothing over the sound of soft chirps.

My heart is hammering in my chest, despite the fact that I should be more relaxed. I keep my ears clear and sit silent with my back to a tree.

Katniss snoozes softly, hand pressed to her stomach and I take to watching her instead of the shadows.

* * *

Time passes and I clear through nearly four cups of water before I can't stand it anymore. I get up from my spot and step off behind a few large bushes to relieve myself.

Pee done, suit zipped back up, I fill another cup and sit down again. It's the second I've seated myself that a large toll rings through the jungle around._ Bong! Bong!_

Katniss sits upright, alarmed and reaching for her bow as she looks around wildly, "What's going on? What is it?"

I cover her mouth and move to her as the sound continues and then stops abruptly at twelve chimes. Katniss's grey eyes meet mine and she mouths the number as if trying to confirm it. I nod and as we wait, the sky lights up with a thrill of lightening and a storm starts somewhere ahead of us through the jungle.

She eventually drifts back off to sleep, comforted by the soft pitter-patter of rain and the gentle rumbling of thunder. I struggle to stay awake for an hour or more when a canon sounds and startles Katniss awake again.

"Peeta?"

"I'm here," I whisper to her as the rain ahead comes to an end.

She sits upright and pulls the spile down to fill a leaf cup, her hands shaking nervously as she struggles to down the warm water.

As she's drinking it I look ahead and sit up more, "What's that?"

Katniss takes the spile from the tree and looks out at the fog that's slowly coming toward us, "Can it possibly be a good thing?"

I stand up and start packing our weapons, grab up the leaf cup I've been using and take her hand, "No, let's move."

She doesn't argue and we start our run through the jungle again.

Neither of us bother to slow down, and she's far enough ahead of me that she checks back every now and then, but the fog is getting further behind us as we run.

This type of exertion makes me proud that we practiced sprinting throughout our break as often as we have. At this moment, it is surely needed.

We reach the shore in the dark of the night, maybe one or two in the morning since I have no sense of time. We both finally take a moment to stop and look back to see just how much distance we managed.

"Is it still coming?" Katniss asks, clutching her stomach.

I look back around and see that, no, the fog isn't coming. It's stopped as though behind glass, thickening and rising up, but never moving forward.

Katniss lets out a sigh when I tell her this and she falls backwards onto her butt in the sand of the beach.

"Are you alright?" I move to her, touching her stomach, "How's the baby?"

"We're fine," she says, "Just... just tired."

I pull her into my arms, relief filling me for the moment as I hold her tightly against my chest, "You should get some more sleep, Katniss."

"No," she says, looking up at me, "**You **should rest."

"Katniss–"

"Don't argue," she says sternly and smiles, "You've been awake this whole time. Now please, get some sleep. I'll watch over."

I nod, give in, and rest my head in her lap. I'm out before I can say anything else.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Okay so they ended at the same time, I managed that. Whew.

I hope there's no major grammar problems, TELL ME IF THERE IS. Geez, I really had to rush to get these out. I apologize, but my actual BOOK took up time. O.o

See you all next week! Love you! Review please?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	23. IMPORTANT: Authors Note 2

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Important Author's Note  
**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

Sorry for the delay everyone. You may have noticed that I didn't post yesterday.

And I can't post today. BECAUSE I HAVE NOTHING TO SHOW. T_T

The next update will be next week (on Tuesday, of course), because of a ... flash drive problem. Something kinda serious.

Lots of error... And in short, I have to re... REWRITE those friggin chapters from scratch. So that's awesome. I'm pretty livid with it because this is happening with my book too. So I have to rewrite 56 pages of my book. (And have lost a lot of other things too) Thankfully past updates and things are still around and safe, and my interview is on my comp, so that's safe.

It's a real set back and it's kinda depressing. But please bare with me! Chapters 13 WILL be up next week, you have my werd.

Follow me on twitter if you want updates about how the process is going. You can send me messages on pretty much anything. If yer concerned or have things you want to say, I'm still here. I'm not in the hospital or anything. LOL.

All is... managable, atm.

Love you all, thank you fer being static and patient with me.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

Fin.


	24. Chapter 13 Option A: Blood on the Shore

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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**Option A**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hope you all had good holidays and a safe two weeks!

I been busy. _ What with editing my original story, company over, and family events. I still pumped this baby out. So proud of myself.

Also, I started playing Wow again, a bit more seriously. So that's taken some time too. But TristAn starts up werk now, and that means that I have about an hour or so each day free, which I can dedicate to writing. Sigh, jobs take up so much time. It's exhausting. I just want to write. XP

I've already gotten a few questions and suggestions and such, but please continue to submit them. Either through pm, e-mail, facebook, or twitter. It all werks. You can request scenes that are missed and you wanted to see, or even completely alternated scenes between different characters.

Feel free to follow me on twitter like a few have, or friend me on facebook like most have, or message me on msn like almost all do. Any time of the day, any day of the week. I'm around. XP

Thank you avid readers fer sticking to it, welcomes to all the newbies! Please read on, enjoy and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **As an ODD pairing, what is one of yer sort of... Guilty pleasures, as far as Hunger Games characters go?

**-Week 7: **Preppy names? Too many to list. _

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

LittleAsian: "A healthy list of preppy names, if I do say so myself."

Emily (my biggest fan): "Late reviews are a-okay, as long as they happen! /hug What's this about making an account? I'm excited. ^^ and late happy b-day! I, too, watched the HP DH Part 2 trailer. Still confused about the 'it's you and me Tom' line... but bah, whatever. A lot of things were cool to see. The fire looked promising. And Fred... Seeing that scene in the trailer surprised me..."

Vampiregirl23: "thank you so much! /blush and the then/than prey/pray is a problem. But meh, this isn't a book. Lol. Though it definitely feels like it sometimes. Thanks though fer pointing that out. And lengthy review? Lol, you should see some of the others. Or the NOTES! You know who you are! Those notes are long and I love them... That's what she said. Anyways, thanks fer the input, welcome to my story, and welcome to the anonymous reviewers!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Let me see you through

'cause I've seen the dark side too

When the night falls on you

You don't know what to do

Nothing you confess

Could make me love you less

I'll stand by you

I'll stand by you

Won't let nobody hurt you

I'll stand by you

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Blood on the Shore  
**

* * *

Finnick offers to take up watch while Katniss and I go to sleep. She's curled up close on my chest, breathing steadily and hand running soothing circles over my white undershirt as she drifts off. We've all discarded our ruined jump suits earlier, since they were damaged from the acid fog; or whatever it was. Which leaves the three of us sitting around in black, skin tight muscle shirts and just as tight shorts.

It's not completely odd for me, being on the boy's Wrestling team in school, and the outfit wears unusually like a one piece, coming together, yet still being apart.

And Finnick has obviously worn less. But Katniss is just barely dealing with it because she honestly has no other choice. It's clear that, while she has an amazing body, she's not entirely stoked about showing the form to everyone. Her bare arms and legs, hairless and exposed, it's clear that she's struggling not to find something to cover them up with.

We've also worn full skin tight stuff before, though those were normally either glowing or covering every inch of skin from our necks down, or both.

While thinking, I watch her hand for a short while until my eyes fall closed. And then I'm asleep as well.

* * *

When I wake up next, it's from Katniss softly whispering to lure me up, "Peeta," I hear her say in a gentle voice, "Peeta, wake up."

I open my eyes and first make out something close to my face, two things, that are both a gray-green color, and alive. And not Katniss at all.

At once, I'm up and backing away, voice coming out in a strangled scream of surprise. It sounds even pathetic to me when it happens. Then I see that it ('it' as in the grey-green creatures sitting inches from my face before) is just Finnick and, yes, Katniss; covered in some kind of paint or oil.

They throw back their heads at my reaction to them and start laughing at me.

And, while they find it entirely amusing, my heart hammering around in my chest about being scared half-way to death's door should tell them that I think about it quite differently. It's honestly not the way any one would want to be woken. And just as I'm about to get up and rinse off in the water, a parachute lands next to us.

Finnick takes up the bread that's been delivered from it, observes closely and then says: "this will go well with the shellfish." He stands up and walks towards the water with it.

Katniss stares, smiling, then moves forward on her knees and kisses me. It's gentle, comforting, and apologetic. I can't stop my hands from moving up to touch her cheeks, or my lips from opening to invite her in.

She pulls back finally and lets out a breath before asking: "Are you itchy?"

I nod and she motions me to sit back. So, using my hands to hold me up, I lean back and stretch out my legs to give her access to my skin.

She pours out this unattractively colored grey-green cream into her hand from a tube and begins to rub it soothingly over my chest and shoulders, "Haymitch was kinda awesome."

"Yeah," I agree as her hands move confidently down my body, to my waist and stomach.

I lean in again and kiss her as she slows the movement of her hands.

"Is it every game we're in that we're going to be coating something over each other's bodies?" She asks, trying to put out some light-hearted conversation.

I shrug in response and add: "Well, you'd definitely think we did it at home."

Katniss grins, "Maybe we should?"

"Maybe," I say softly, watching her hands. The cream is ugly, but watching her fingers massaging it into my stomach is some sort of treat. When I look back up into her eyes I see some sort of distant, sad expression that I've only seen a few times before now. "Are you alright?" I ask in concern.

She nods and lifts her hands, taking the tube up for more cream to cover my face and neck, "I think so. I'm just, you know, scared."

"Me too," I say, offering comfort.

Katniss watches me close before asking: "You don't really say much about it, though. I feel like I never really know how you think about these kinds of things. Why don't you ever voice it?"

I'm stunned by the admittance from her (and her obvious concern) but it's almost unreasonable. Unreasonable to me, because I know why I don't talk about it. Reasonable to her, because she doesn't.

"We're all worried, Katniss," I start to explain, "What would telling you about mine do? Except to aggravate or scare you more."

"I guess," she mutters and rubs the cream onto my cheeks in circular motions.

I reach up, grab her hands from my face, and kiss her a third time. She stills against me and smiles into my mouth.

"I'm afraid," I say, "Terrified, horrified, concerned... and also oddly comfortable. All feelings that shouldn't be together in one sentence. But I'm in no way as calm as I portray. You should know that by now."

She smiles sadly and nods. "I know. I just... Sometimes I feel like I don't know you as well as I want to. And that's not right."

"It's not," I agree, "but it's normal. Almost expected. And we have time."

Finnick motions to Katniss and I, for food, and we both get up to move over to join him.

* * *

Johanna Mason is the last person we need on our team. Sometimes, not even last; sometimes never.

So the second her and Finnick join together, rejoicing and happy to see each other, I know something serious is going to happen. Something all of us might regret.

Katniss is immediately appalled at the alliance we're now forced into. The look her and I share is enough to tell that.

It's only short words in that Johanna proves this isn't going to work (when she slaps Katniss). And I'm not responsible for my own actions.

I step in between them both and shove her away, "Back off, Johanna." I can only think how lucky she is that I haven't hit her or something. Despite the alliance, I will... WILL kill anyone, everyone, to make sure that Katniss lives. And Johanna, female or not, is no exception.

Johanna, with raised brows, moves to come at me then.

Katniss sighs from behind me, "Don't, please."

Finnick grabs Johanna up by the waist to stop her and pulls her out into the water to dunk her anger out.

I turn back to look at Katniss and reach out to touch her red cheek, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," She says and looks down. "This is the last thing we need."

I nod, "It is, but we're just going to have to deal with it."

* * *

After we've washed Beetee clean of blood, Katniss has taken care of his wound, calmed down Wiress the best we can and stayed as silent as possible around Johanna, we make up camp along the beach.

Katniss, sitting up awake to watch over us, runs her fingers through Wiress's hair as the woman sleeps and murmurs: 'Tick, tock'.

"Tick, tock," Katniss repeats softly, "It's time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep." She gets this off-balance look in her eyes before she says to herself: "Tick, tock."

I frown and look at her, barely holding onto wake. "What?"

Wiress has been muttering 'Tick tock,' for most of the day, either for comfort, or to let someone know what time it is, we haven't figured it out. But when Katniss looks out at the dark, creeping jungle before us, eyes searching, brain clicking, it's obvious that the phrase is meant for more. And she's figured it out.

"It's a clock," she whispers finally as her eyebrows narrow, "We have to move."

"Move?" I ask unsurely.

Katniss stands up immediately then and starts grabbing things, "Yes," she says between breaths, "the island is a clock."

She allows me a few seconds to piece it together and I hear Wiress say again: "Tick, tock."

"The lightening. It's at midnight," I say to myself.

"Yes," Katniss confirms, "And at two, that fog thing begins there," she says, pointing out in front of us, "So we have to move somewhere safe now."

I start packing our things as fast as I can as Katniss calms Wiress down.

"Beetee," I say softly, leaving the rest of the packing to Finnick. I bend down to help Beetee up but he pulls away.

"Wire," he says, looking around frantically.

"She's right here," I tell him, "Wiress is fine. She's coming, too."

"Wire," he protests again.

Johanna sighs and gets up, "Oh, I know what he wants," she walks out across the beach and picks up a cylinder from the sand a few yards away. "This worthless thing. It's some kind of wire or something. That's how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this," she stops, looking at it again and shrugging, "I don't know what kind of weapon it's suppose to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?"

I'm surprised, **surprisingly**, at her lack of forethought in what she's just said, and it raises suspicion in the back of my mind when I say: "He won his games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap. It's the best weapon he could have." Just as critical as Katniss and her bows and arrows. And me with knives and swords. And Finnick with his trident.

Katniss joins in, throwing Johanna a skeptical look, "Seems like you'd have figured that out. Since you nicknamed him Volts and all."

Johanna glares at her, "Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it? I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were... what, again? Getting Mags killed off?"

It's a harsh jive from her, something a person with a bit of respect wouldn't have said, and Katniss takes it more then personally.

"Go ahead," Johanna says as her eyes follow Katniss's hand tightening around the blade at her belt, "Try it. I don't care if you are knocked up, I'll rip your throat out."

"Hey!" I shout, putting my hand out, "Don't you talk to her like that."

"Or what?" Johanna turns to me.

"Maybe," Finnick starts, moving in between us all, "we all had better be careful where we step."

Johanna, from behind him, throws me a glare that I feel right down into the marrow of my bones, but I set my jaw and glare back.

* * *

We make our way along the beach until we reach the Cornucopia to take up rest and gather more weapons. I start in on making a map of the arena as a clock face while Katniss and Finnick both supply the details for me and Wiress walks out into the water to clean Beetee's metal cylinder.

I'm just saying: "It's a lot more than we knew this morning, anyways," when Katniss's eyes widen. She brings up her bow and arrow and whirls around to face a new Tribute, Gloss, who's out in the water.

Gloss, who let's go of Wiress's shoulders, her knife sliding over the other woman's neck. The blood coming from the wound is instantly chilling to my stomach, pouring out in streams down Wiress's chest.

The gaping hole stretches out with the skin as her head falls back, looking like a morbid smile, blood spurting, muscle and tissue exposing as her body collapses.

I stand up and grab my dagger for defense just as Katniss's arrow makes acquaintances with the inside of Gloss's brain. Her body falls to the ground, limp and unmoving by Wiress. The tide slides up against them and the water mixes with the blood on the sand, turning it into a pale pink on the outside.

The canon sounds twice, as if it wasn't obvious before, that both of them are dead. In just seconds, two Tributes have been marked off of the list.

I join Katniss in pursuit around the horn of the Cornucopia, chasing after Brutus and Enobaria when the ground underneath us shudders to life and starts spinning wildly in a circular motion. My hands stretch out immediately and I grab onto anything I can; which just happens to be the lip of the horn.

The force of it swings my legs back behind me, blows dirt around like a cyclone, and I feel more then see two bodies pass by me, taken by the wind.

When everything finally stops spinning, the sand falls to the ground and, no longer having the strength to throw my body into the air, so do I.

I land down hard on my side and the bit of breath I have is knocked from my lungs.

Katniss sits up on her knees, spluttering out sand and gasping for air as Finnick and Johanna do the same.

I try to get the dirt out of my hair and face as Johanna shouts: "Where's Volts?"

We look around wildly until Finnick shouts in success and dives out into the water to get Beetee, who was most likely one of the people that flew by me in the storm. Katniss dives in too, but towards something else, only saying: "Cover me," before she's off.

I grab my sword up and look around, glancing everywhere to make sure I don't see anyone else. Finnick is the first back, of course, hauling Beetee up out of the water and standing in the sand to drip dry.

Katniss comes back only a few minutes later, carrying Beetee's metal cylinder in her hands. She walks over to me, saying nothing more then just wrapping her arms tightly around me and soaking her body against mine.

I rest my hand on the back of her head and hug her close as she catches her breath.

The five of us settle down after that, taking long minutes to calm the adrenaline that was pumping in the fight, cut off by fear and overwhelming odds from the cyclone, and then burnt out by the end of it.

Johanna's the first to talk after the long silence, she throws her arms up comically and sighs in exasperation, "Let's get off this stinking island."

We all agree, nodding and exhausted still, and I take Katniss's hand in mine.

I start to head off when she doesn't move, so I stop as well, and look back as I see that both Finnick and Johanna have started to walk in their own separate directions too.

"Twelve o'clock right?" I ask, confused and trying to confirm, "The tail points at twelve."

"Before they spun us," Finnick says, "I was judging by the sun."

Katniss raises a brow, "The sun only tells you it's four, Finnick."

They go at it for a few minutes before we just simply decide to head back into the jungle. Whether it's a good or bad decision, only time will tell. Either way, none of us have enough energy to care at the moment.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

I rly hope I didn't screw up anywhere. Stupid boyfriend wouldn't shut up and let me edit in peace. So if you see something wrong, please tell! Until then, onto opt b!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	25. Chapter 13 Option B: Fight it Out

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hope you all had good holidays and a safe week!

I been busy. _ What with editing my original story, company over, and family events. I still pumped this baby out. So proud of myself.

Also, I started playing Wow again, a bit more seriously. So that's taken some time too. But TristAn starts up werk now, and that means that I have about an hour or so each day free, which I can dedicate to writing. Sigh, jobs take up so much time. It's exhausting. I just want to write. XP

I've already gotten a few questions and suggestions and such, but please continue to submit them. Either through pm, e-mail, facebook, or twitter. It all werks. You can request scenes that are missed and you wanted to see, or even completely alternated scenes between different characters.

Feel free to follow me on twitter like a few have, or friend me on facebook like most have, or message me on msn like almost all do. Any time of the day, any day of the week. I'm around. XP

Thank you avid readers fer sticking to it, welcomes to all the newbies! Please read on, enjoy and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **As an ODD pairing, what is one of yer sort of... Guilty pleasures, as far as Hunger Games characters go?

**-Week 7: **Preppy names? Too many to list. _

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

LittleAsian: "A healthy list of preppy names, if I do say so myself."

Emily (my biggest fan): "Late reviews are a-okay, as long as they happen! /hug What's this about making an account? I'm excited. ^^ and late happy b-day! I, too, watched the HP DH Part 2 trailer. Still confused about the 'it's you and me Tom' line... but bah, whatever. A lot of things were cool to see. The fire looked promising. And Fred... Seeing that scene in the trailer surprised me..."

Vampiregirl23: "thank you so much! /blush and the then/than prey/pray is a problem. But meh, this isn't a book. Lol. Though it definitely feels like it sometimes. Thanks though fer pointing that out. And lengthy review? Lol, you should see some of the others. Or the NOTES! You know who you are! Those notes are long and I love them... That's what she said. Anyways, thanks fer the input, welcome to my story, and welcome to the anonymous reviewers!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

You and I are paintin' pictures in the sky.

And sometimes we don't say a thing;

Just listen to the crickets sing.

Everything I need is right here by my side.

And I know everything about you

I don't wanna live without you.

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Fight it Out**

* * *

When I wake up, it's to wind whistling against my ear and the salty smell of beach.

Katniss's soft, strong fingers comb through my hair as she hums out a song. I can also hear gentle waves of water crashing on the shore and it's more calming to me then this arena has any right to be.

"Are you hungry?" Katniss whispers, stopping in the middle of her humming song.

I open my eyes and smile up at her, "Always."

She produces a sliver of cooked meat and holds it up to my mouth.

I can't help opening wide and taking more then just the food in. Tongue sliding over her fingers, teeth grazing softly against her joints. I suck the tip and let go to chew the meat finally.

Katniss stares and giggles lightly, "I didn't know you were hungry enough to become a cannibal."

"Starving," I say as I swallow, "Water?"

She holds a leaf cup to my mouth as I sit up a bit and drink the water.

"What did you do while I was asleep?"

Katniss, putting down the cup, points to another one of the animals she'd shot before, cooking over a fire.

"I was out in the forest, got a good amount of water and found that little guy," She laughs nervously.

My eyes meet hers and this is when I notice the state that she's in. The serene comfort and gentle mood I've been in is ripped away from me and I stare at her face and hands, observing the wounds she's endured. There are small cuts up her forearms and neck, her hair is down from it's braid and she has a splatter of blood spray across her left cheek.

"Katniss?" I ask: "What happened?"

"I just," Katniss shrugged, "I took down some monkeys that attacked me. I'm okay though, it's nothing big. But they're gone now. And uh, yeah. That's all. It's nothing to worry about, I promise."

I grab her face, look it over again, look down to her stomach, run my hand across it, and then look out to the jungle, "While I was asleep?"

Katniss nods, "I was hungry. I couldn't just sit around and do nothing."

I agree, of course. But she could've died. Could've been taken from me forever. And I wouldn't have even known, wouldn't have been there to save her. I try to keep myself calm, keep this fear from her, so instead I ask: "Have you seen any Tributes?"

She nods and I feel the knot form immediately in my chest.

"Who?"

Katniss points out behind me and I look back to see five people sitting in a circle. I start to panic, struggle to stand and pick up our gear.

"We have to go, now."

She grabs my hand, "No, don't worry, we're allies now."

"Allies?" I stop and stare at her, "With who, exactly?"

"I had no other choice," Katniss says sheepishly, "It happened after the monkeys. Finnick and Mags needed help, and I couldn't hurt them. Then Beetee, Johanna, and Wiress just sort of... happened."

I sigh and sit back, "Alright. We were doing fine on our own though."

Katniss nods, "I know. But this is okay for now."

I don't want to argue, the alliance is nice, I guess. But I won't hesitate to take any of them down to save Katniss.

* * *

The rest of the day is event less as we plan together and then go to sleep that night. It's nearly noon the next day that I wake up to Johanna and Finnick chatting idly.

The seven of us are stationed along the beach. Mags tends to Beetee and Katniss runs her fingers through Wiress's hair as the woman sleeps and murmurs words softly, 'Tick, tock'.

Katniss smiles, "Tick, tock," she agrees, "It's time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep." Then she looks straight up at me in surprise, "Tick, tock."

I raise my brow in confusion, "What?"

Wiress has been muttering it for the better part of yesterday, which still evades me as to why. But Katniss looks out at the jungle knowingly as the gears in her head start clicking together.

"It's a clock," she says softly as her eyebrows narrow, "Which means that we have to move."

"Move?"

She stands, "Yes, the island is a clock."

I think about it for a moment as Wiress wakes and starts saying to Katniss, "Tick, tock."

"The lightening," I start, "It's at midnight and noon?"

"Yes," Katniss confirms again, "And at two, that fog thing begins there," she says, pointing out in front of us, "So we have to move somewhere safe now before it starts."

I start packing our things with Finnick as Katniss calms Wiress down.

"Beetee," I say softly, bending down to lift the man up, but he pulls away.

"Wire."

"She's right here," I tell him, "Wiress is fine. She's coming, too."

"Wire," he insists as he pulls his arms from me.

Johanna sighs, "Oh, I know what he wants," she picks up a cylinder from the sand beside the spray of water a few yards away. "This worthless thing. It's some kind of wire or something. That's how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don't know what kind of weapon it's suppose to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?"

My suspicions at her lie hit home in my stomach and it twists my intestines violently, "Beetee was best known for winning his games with wire," I tell her and I see the recognition fog her eyes for a second, "He set up an electrical trap. There's nothing better, or more effective, then what he grabbed."

"I'd think you'd have figured that out, Johanna," Katniss comments, "considering that you were the one that nicknamed him Volts and all."

Johanna turns to glare at Katniss, "Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it?"

I reach out and grab Katniss's hand, she turns and her eyes meet mine. I shake my head.

"What now?" Johanna asks in confusion.

Katniss nods to me and we have our arrows strung and aimed in seconds, pointing them both at Johanna; mine to her chest and Katniss's to her head.

Johanna puts her hands up, alarmed. "Woah, hey, what are you two doing?" she asks in surprise, eyes widening, and Finnick rushes to stand between us all.

"Put those down," he says angrily, trying to be the mediator.

I shake my head, "Not a chance. You," I say, motioning to Johanna with a nod, "are up to something. And I want to know what it is."

Finnick looks back to her and I can see from my position that it's an unsure, hesitant expression. It's only more confirmation that I'm not just making things up in my mind. He wouldn't be hesitating if he didn't have something to hide.

"You are too," Katniss says to Finnick then, "You both have been very buddy, buddy since we met up. Whispering to each other."

Johanna sighs, "Oh please, you're so paranoid. Like we honestly have time to plan things in this stupid arena. It's just your hormones talking."

"Yeah, so her hormones are making me paranoid as well?" I ask as I tighten back the string of my bow.

"Well," Johanna smiles at me and crosses her arms over her chest, "yes. You're both being paranoid. Her, because she's pregnant, and you, because you knocked her up."

"The both of you!" Finnick stretches his palms out, one at me and Katniss, the other at Johanna, "Please, everyone calm down. We don't have the time to argue."

Katniss puts her weapons down, "you're right," she says as she slips her fingers around my forearm, "Let's go, Peeta."

I nod and start to back away.

"Oh get a grip!" Johanna stomps forward and slaps Katniss across the face, "We're a team now, so you're staying with–" She's cut off when my fist connects with her jaw and she's thrown down into the sand.

"Peeta!" Finnick grabs his trident and puts the blades of it to my neck.

I grab Katniss to guide her behind me, not just because of the argument between us, but also because we're not the only ones out on the beach anymore.

"Finnick!" Katniss shouts as I pull up my bow and arrow again and let it loose to sail just behind the older man's ear.

Finnick ducks, thinking I've aimed for him, throws his arm out and the blades of his trident stab into a leg that I don't really have. It's obvious he means to warn, because he can see my two legs difference quite plainly though.

"Peeta!" Katniss shouts in fear.

"I'm alright," I say, pulling back and shoving Finnick, "Look behind you, idiot."

Finnick turns as Brutus falls to the ground, dead and I pull the trident up out of my artificial leg.

Johanna, getting up now, grabs one of my daggers from the ground and stabs it into my other leg, which _is _real; and now I'm not alright.

"Johanna!" Finnick reaches out to stop her but I step away, take Katniss's arm, and run.

"Your leg," she mumbles as we leave the others behind.

Ignoring the stinging pain shooting through my thigh, we start off down the beach and dive into the jungle ahead of us, towards the five o'clock zone.

Katniss is shouting behind me: "Your leg, Peeta. Your leg."

"I know, Katniss," I stop, turn to her and grab her waist, "Up."

She doesn't hesitate to scale the tree I've lifted her against and I join her in the climb. She slows, helps me to get up high enough, and hidden, before finally sitting back against the tree to relax her breathing.

Katniss looks down at my leg and reaches her shaking fingers out towards me, "I'll–"

"No," I push her hands away, "I've got it."

She nods in worry and watches.

I swallow back the bile tugging at the end of my neck and put both of my hands to it, "Okay," I start to tug but the pain flares up and I'm laying back again, "Do it, please." I don't have enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to be able to pull it off this time.

Katniss chuckles nervously and in that second the blade is ripped up from my leg without a second thought.

The scream startles her and she fumbles with the dagger. She catches the hilt of it tight in her shaking fingers and turns to the main body of the tree we're sitting in.

"What are you doing?" I ask weakly as I examine the blood rising up in the hole in my leg. It's filling like a cup until it starts leaking out on each side.

"Water, of course."

I reach forward painfully slowly and grab the spile from her waist, then hand it to her as she pulls the dagger back and then lodges the spile into the tree.

She turns to me, takes one look at the wound and rips the cloth open from my thigh. This hole isn't nearly as bad as the much larger sword in the last arena, of course, but it's still pain and blood. And it's still going to slow me down.

"You make a habit of losing legs, don't you?" Katniss jokes as she begins to clean the mess up, using the cloth as a bandage.

I shrug as she glances at me.

Katniss smiles then and leans in to press her lips to mine, I kiss back and brush my fingers over her cheek.

"What now?" she asks, letting out a heavy breath and looking around through the trees.

"I have no idea," I've lost count of how many Tributes are left and I can't even begin to think of where to go or what to do about Finnick and Johanna. It's obvious they had a plan about Katniss and I, but would they follow after us?

Katniss sits back to catch her breath, hand resting over her stomach.

"How are you?" I ask, staring at her waist, "None of that can have been good for the baby."

"We're just really lucky we didn't... consummate on our little toasting night," She responds and then pulls some food from the parachute-made-into-pack, "Otherwise I'd be a bit bigger and it would be pretty hard to run like that."

"No kidding."

Katniss hands me a chunk of meat and nibbles on some of her own, "I'm glad you didn't kill him though."

"Who?" I ask as I swallow and take the leaf cup she offers.

"Finnick," She says softly, "And I can't believe you hit Johanna. I'm still reeling about that."

I try to hold back the laugh that bursts from my chest but it's impossible, "Yeah," I say, struggling to be quiet, "I can't really either. I don't normally hit girls. It's not right."

Katniss 'mmm's and munches silently.

"But she smacked you."

She stops and stares at me, smiles wide, and nods. "She did."

I reach out then and take her hand up in mine, "I know that you're strong, and I know you're able," I explain softly, "But I don't want you to _have _to deal with those kinds of things. I know it's very 'male' of me. But you're my wife and you're carrying my baby. And even if you weren't, I still would've decked her."

Katniss lets out a real laugh and squeezes my fingers, "It's not 'male' of you," she says and pulls away, "It's human of you."

"I don't like seeing you hurt."

"Pain is inevitable, Peeta," Katniss says as she sips from her own leaf cup, "But I'm glad you're so chivalrous. I'm overwhelmed by it some times. But I don't think any one can argue that you're not good to me."

"I never really hear much of what you think about those things. Is that weird?"

"Not really."

"No?" I ask.

Katniss nods, "I'm use to depending on myself. Use to taking care of everyone else. But it's a nice change for once, knowing that I have someone behind me, backing me up. It's good to know that I have you here with me. Ignoring the fact that it means one of us is going to die or both... I wouldn't have anyone else here. There's no one I trust more then you, to take care of me and my family."

"Katniss–"

"No Peeta," she says softly, sitting back against the tree, "It goes without saying that... If I die, if you live... You'll take care of them."

"I will."

She smiles, as if expecting nothing less, and then a small parachute lands between us. Katniss takes it in her hands, "Bread."

Not just any bread, but bread from District 4.

Katniss stares at it with a raised brow, "What could this mean?"

I watch as she folds the bread over in her hands, "Well, I saved Finnick. And we let him live. So either it's a 'thank you', or maybe he needs help again?"

"Or an alliance request." Katniss breaks it into two halves and begins to eat hers.

I take mine up and pull it off in pieces, slowly chewing in thought, "I don't want to go back and join them."

She nods in agreement and we eat in silence for a while before she gives me a wicked smile.

"What's that for?" I ask, suspicious.

"How about," she suggests: "Not allying, but watching?"

"Watching?"

She begins to pack our stuff, "Let's follow, and if he needs help, we'll help. But for the most part, we'll keep to ourselves, and stay hidden. Sound good?"

"It sounds ideal."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Sorry fer the two week long wait! It happens. I hope you enjoyed and everything looks alright.

The next few chapters will be BIG of course. Don't ferget to ask questions, pm or whatever you wish. I'd like to hear them! See you all next Tuesday!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	26. Chapter 14 Option A: Beginning The End

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option A**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_**Please read fer infermation concerning Epilogue content, updates, and the interview, as well as Book 3.**_

These are the last chapters (Chapters 14). The **Epilogues **will be coming out in a sort of scattered order over the next week. I can't explain much more. But expect them. And read the author's notes fer more infermation as they come out.

If you want more of my info concerning anything, do follow me on **Twitter**. Many have already, but just saying, I will be keeping regular updates there. And most likely soon on my website. ^^

After the Epilogues, it will be about another week fer the **Interview**, and then a two week wait fer the **Chapters 1 of Book 3**.

Concerning the **INTERVIEW**, you have two weeks to submit questions, concerns, requests, ANYTHING you want to know. PM me, message me on Facebook, Tweet me, e-mail me, or put it in yer review. All are answered, promise.

The interview will have a sneak peak into the third part, as well as the title and date that it will be up.

_Now onto the real Author's note:_

Thank everyone fer reading and staying strong, and enjoying my werk.

If there are typos, please alert me, and I will try to get to them.

I love all of you, have a safe week, hope you all had a good mother's day and enjoyed maybe.. A dinner out?

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's yer favorite color?

**-Week 8: **ODD Pairing, guilty pleasure of Hunger Games? Mine is... Oy, gosh, have to admit it now that you've all answered. Haymitch and Katniss... DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! I'M WRITING A PEETA/KATNISS FIC. T-T

**-Week 7: **Preppy names? Too many to list. _

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

San: "Right? Hey, at least I'm here. And it'll be around fer a WHILE. XP Thank fer the review!"

Emily: "Aww, thank you. Yeah it's rly bad that I'm enjoying writing this more then reading the book too. I can hardly stand listening to it now. O.o Just... things shoulda been different. XP Yeah, I'm a weasel, I know. Would love a question or two from you. Or a request, those are fun. ^^ Oh, and ACTIVATE YER ACC! I demand it. Jk. Love you always, see you next time!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Chances, hunger; insatiable

Life is changing

Unpredictable

Hear me calling: where are you now?

Will we meet anyway, anyhow

Where do we end?

Where do we begin?

Are we lost, or must we lose to win?

* * *

**Chapter 14 - Beginning the End**

* * *

As I begin the impatient start of a second map, more hastily drawn this time, a scream from the jungle alerts me. It's not one I expect. Not Katniss, not Finnick, not even Johanna. But Prim. Katniss's sister is screaming from inside of the arena.

The scream; violent, pained, terrified, chills my bones into dust and I'm up on my feet immediately, yanking my dagger from my belt, and running across the sand.

Dash the map and our gathering. I'm chasing after Katniss and Finnick, trying to keep up with them or stop them, whichever comes first. But, when I reach the beginning of the jungle, reality smacks me hard in the face and knocks me off of my feet.

Johanna and Beetee run up to me as my mind whirls.

And, head spinning, trying to sit back up and control the dizzy spell, I realize that it wasn't reality smacking me so hard. It was a wall. A long, invisible, impenetrable wall.

Johanna makes a few choice attempts at it. Beetee studies it. And I stand back up at last, unable to do a thing but glare through it after Katniss and Finnick.

Finally, after painstaking silence and shuffling feet, they come back. Both, missing sight of the wall even though each of my hands are up against it, run right into it.

I reach my hand out to the glass as Katniss presses her palm against mine on the other side.

"It's alright, Katniss," I tell her, unsure if she can even hear me, "It's just an hour event, I think. You can handle this. It'll go away soon."

She stares up at me still, tears streaked down her cheeks. Then she turns back as the jabberjays around Finnick and her begin to arrive. She shoots at them but it does nothing to dampen the sheer multitude of them. Giving up, out of arrows, she curls into a fetal position to wait the rest of the hour out.

The wall going away is abrupt and I rush forward to pull her up into my arms. I hold her close and carry her out onto the beach. It's an awkward act, trying to sit, but I manage it without fault and hold her close to my chest while I whisper to her reassuringly.

"It's alright now, Katniss," I tell her. "It wasn't real. I'm here, and there's nothing to worry about."

She's got her eyes shut, hands clamped over her ears until they finally relax and she whispers out: "You didn't hear them."

"I heard Prim," I admit, "Right in the beginning. But it wasn't her. It was a jabberjay."

"It was her," Katniss argues weakly, "Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it."

I continue to try and reassure her, let her know that when there are only eight of us left they have to interview Prim. And they can't have done anything to her before then. Katniss asks for confirmation from Finnick, who sort of agrees. And finally, Beetee assures us that it's been more then possible for ages to copy a voice. And only then does Katniss really relax.

Johanna leaves the group, walking into the jungle to get more water and I look down to Katniss and ask: "Who did they use against Finnick?"

"Somebody named Annie."

This surprises me, because: "Must be Annie Cresta." I whisper, thinking of the reaping in District Four.

"Who?" Katniss asks in confusion.

"Annie Cresta," I repeat, "She was the girl who Mags volunteered for. She won about five years ago."

And now she's kind of mad, driven out of her mind by the arena, swimming for her life. That's the person that Finnick loves most. Of all of the women, possibly men as well, that he's been with through the years, he's so selfless to love her out of all of them. I'm both saddened, and comforted by this thought. And it's a kind of respect that I'll have to show him one day.

I don't know if I'll be able to take down Finnick without a good reason.

* * *

As night comes, we travel to the side of the beach that has the wave. And Just as it recedes, we take up our camp site there.

Katniss and I commit to first watch and sit in a sort of odd, side-by-side, facing opposite directions position. I stare out into the jungle, watching the trees rustle in the wind on occasion and I think that these are trees I might just paint a thousand times. Because of the fear they cause in me.

The only thing that can comfort me while staring at them is the thought that_ at least I'm not in there tonight_.

Katniss's head falls to rest on my shoulder and I reach up my opposite side hand to run it through her long brown hair.

I'm silent for only a moment, thinking of what to say, when I finally do.

"Katniss," I start, softly whispering, "it's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do. I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well. So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us."

She takes her head up from my shoulder and turns back to stare at me, "Why are you saying this now?"

I look back into her eyes, staring deep into them and say: "Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are," I explain, "If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again."

She opens her mouth to disagree but I lift my hand, grazing my fingers over her jaw while my index presses to her lips, "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

I pull the locket from around my neck and open it to show her the pictures I've stored inside, Gale, and then her mother and Prim.

Katniss's face pales considerably as she stares at it.

"You're family needs you, Katniss," I whisper, brushing her bangs softly from her face, "No one really needs me."

"I do," she says immediately and I hear it in her voice. She's telling the truth. It's obvious, always has been, that she needs me. That she loves me.

But that's only one person. One, single person. Yes, the most important, but it's still only one.

"I need you."

I relax my brows and take a deep breath. I'm ready to explain, to hold my case, when she plants her lips firmly over mine. I try to continue to talk, "Katniss," but she presses her lips against mine again.

Then she's moving, turning her body, lifting it, grabbing my face in her hands.

I circle my palms over her small waist, grab her as she climbs onto my lap, wringing her undershirt in my fists and holding her close.

Her breathing is labored, deep, excited, and one of her hands smooths down my chest.

Control is the last thing I think of when I push my arm up under her clothes and then lightening strikes through the sky, thunder rumbling and surprising us both out of our lust.

Finnick shouts himself awake and starts to talk, "I can't sleep anymore. One of you should rest." He stops and we turn to look at him, faces flushed and hearts pounding against each other.

The position hides little, her on my lap, one hand in my hair and the other on my chest. Me, with mine fisting her shirt, and the second underneath it, caressing the skin of her stomach. Her hair probably hides one hand, but it doesn't hide everything.

Finnick's eyebrows shoot up into his bangs and then he smiles, "Or both of you. I can watch alone."

Katniss gets up from my waist and settles down beside me.

"It's too dangerous," I say, resting my hand on her back, "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss."

As Finnick and I sit up the rest of the night, he turns and throws me a smart look once Katniss's breathing becomes heavy with sleep.

I raise a brow at him, "What?"

He smiles, "I'm not dumb."

With that as an opening to conversation, I nod, _obviously_, and shrug, "You've been fooling many."

Finnick just smiles wider and looks out around the beach, "Sorry I interrupted."

I shake my head, "Don't be. We just... kinda got... carried away."

He lets out a soft laugh and pats my back, "Yeah, I hear you. Hard not to get carried away, with such a beautiful girl."

* * *

The next morning we're up, and Katniss takes my hand in hers.

"Come on," she says, smiling, "I'll teach you how to swim."

I follow, watch her face closely, and it's clear that she's only bringing me out here to tell me something that she doesn't want the others to hear.

She continues to play it up though, showing me how to swim. It seems easy enough, but my discomfort of deep water keeps me from even daring to swim out too far.

After only a few minutes, she pulls me back to the beach and shows me what she's doing, using sand to get the scabs from the poison fog off of her skin. I start to copy her when she says: "Look, the pool is down to eight. I think it's time we took off."

I look at her, think about it for a moment and then say, "Tell you what, let's stick around until Brutus and Enobaria are dead. I think Beetee's trying to put together some kind of trap for them now. Then, I promise, we'll go."

She gives me this unsure, hesitant, concerned look and then sighs, "All right. We'll stay until the Careers are dead. But that's the end of it." Then she turns and calls Finnick over to show him what we've been doing with the sand.

After we're all odd shades of bright pink, we put back on more medicine and join Beetee as he explains his plan of using the wire and the lightening tree together.

It's a long and grueling process of walking to the tree, waiting around while Beetee examines it, gathering nuts, and then going back to the beach where we start to swim down for shellfish.

I use my knife to pry open the oysters when a small pearl falls out into my open palm and nearly startles me, "Hey, look at this!" I hold it out to the group and look to Finnick when I say: "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls."

"No, it doesn't," he says, throwing me an astonished look.

Katniss bursts into laughter beside me and I turn my attention to her.

I lean down, tracing it slowly over her lips, and then kiss her. She moves back, receiving me, and then I drop the small pearl into her palm and smile, "For you."

She holds it out and stares at it before a dark look shadows her expression and she nods, "Thanks." She looks back up to me and I can't stop from frowning.

"The locket didn't work, did it?"

"It worked."

"But not the way I wanted it to," I turn away and sigh, then I take up the next oyster and pry it open.

If the locket didn't sway her decision, then nothing will. How did it _not _convince her that her family was more important? It seemed to be working.

After the anthem plays, we start back up to the lightening tree, and I walk ahead of the group. It's goal enough now to avoid Katniss, honestly. She thinks she's helping me, fighting for my life, but the only thing she's doing is hurting my effort.

We reach the lightening zone and watch out as Beetee prepares the tree. He finally takes this moment to explain to us his plan about taking the wire out to the water.

And when I hear that he suggests Katniss and Johanna go alone with the metal cylinder, through the forest, and dump it out into the ocean, I immediately protest.

"I want to go with them as a guard."

"You're too slow," Beetee says immediately, "Besides, I'll need you on this end. Katniss will guard. There's no time to debate this. I'm sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now."

I want to argue, but instead I close my jaw tight and look away into the forest. Katniss's hand touches mine and I take it up immediately.

"It's okay," she says softly, staring up at me, "We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up."

"Not into the lightening zone," Beetee says, "Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage."

We nod and Katniss takes my face in her hands. My heart immediately stammers and starts beating faster at the act.

"Don't worry," she says now, "I'll see you at midnight." She leans up and I move down to kiss her, then I have to force myself to free her hand and let her go with Johanna.

I watch her as she stares at me, pulling her bow off her shoulder and stringing an arrow as they take off into the jungle.

"Peeta."

I turn back to see Finnick and he gives me a sad look, "Finnick?"

He reaches up and pats my shoulder, "Don't worry. Everything's going to work out. Katniss is going to be fine."

I turn my entire body to him and say: "How would you feel, Finnick, if that were Annie?"

He closes his mouth and looks away, "It has to be Katniss."

"What am I needed here for, anyways?" I ask.

"Peeta," Beetee says, "Can I borrow your dagger?"

I pull it from my belt and hand it over, staring at Finnick still, "Was that it?"

He shakes his head, "I–"

Beetee, who's been wrapping a part of the coil around my dagger, takes it and throws it high upwards against the force field.

I move to stop him as he's thrown off of his feet and flies back, "Beetee!" I shout, running over to him.

"Peeta, stop."

An odd sound reaches my ear and I turn to see the wire that Katniss and Johanna have been pulling into the jungle has sprung back, free of coil and the two women.

I look up to Finnick as he runs forward and grabs my sword from my belt, taking Beetee's arm and slicing into it.

"Finnick!" The shock of it startles me at first, but then I see that he's extracting the tracker from Beetee's arm. I start to reach out mine to him as well when something grabs me from behind and throws me off of my feet.

My head and shoulder slam into a tree as I struggle to keep my body under control, grabbing the trunk with both of my arms.

I turn back as Chaff clutches tightly down on Brutus's arm with his fist, stopping him from stabbing me.

They struggle and the sword is dropped. Chaff shoves Brutus, who darts away without another word. He's stopped in his exit as a trident slams the tree behind him and catches his attention.

Finnick, breathing heavily and now unarmed, smiles as he raises his fists, "Mind if I cut in?"

Brutus turns and grins, "Not at all."

"Finnick!" It's Johanna, and Finnick turns to her as she makes a 'come along' motion from the edge of the jungle.

Brutus, ignoring us, follows quickly after Finnick in the direction of Johanna; and inevitably, Katniss.

"No," I struggle to stand and Chaff reaches out to help me, "What are you doing here, Chaff?" I ask.

He smiles apologetically and helps me as we turn to gather things that have been slung around.

Brutus's sword, which was dropped in the struggle, is gone though. I must've missed him grabbing it back up.

But when I was thrown into the trunk of the tree, the quiver of arrows took leave from my shoulder in separate directions, and I take a moment to grab them up.

Things go uncomfortably silent and I hear footsteps coming from somewhere to my far right.

Chaff looks up at it, nervous and preparing to fight with his fists.

"Katniss!" I shout, "Katniss!"

Chaff moves to quiet me but the response is immediate: "Peeta! I'm here! Peeta!"

My heart hammers; knowing she's alive, but she sounds wounded, weak. I shove Chaff's hands from my mouth and start to run forward.

"I'm here! I'm here! Peeta!"

I turn to run when a shadow blurs out in front of me and Chaff yanks me backwards off of my feet, he moves forward when Brutus, holding the large sword again, slices through him.

The cannon sounds as he falls to the ground and I back up, "Katniss!"

Innards spill out over the jungle floor as Chaff's last act of saving me gets him killed in the process, and makes the ground look like it's covered in a messy, thick tar. The warmth from the dead body in front of me rises from it like steam. And the realization that Haymitch has just watched one of his oldest friends die and me, failing to save him, I hope he's not completely disappointed. I also hope, more then anything else, that he doesn't have to see us both die one right after the other.

Brutus walks forward and I push up off of the ground, his sword lurches towards me and I use mine to deflect it.

I stretch my arm out and hook him in the jaw. I'm large enough on my own, and the force of my punch sprawls him. I swing his blade in my hand now and run it through the ground underneath his neck.

Silenced, his head rolls away, and the cannon rumbles again.

I move to walk back around the tree when I spot Katniss, bow strung and the mess of wire tied to her arrow.

She lets it free and it hits something up high that I can't see. And don't have time to think of it, because I'm thrown off of my feet, and then all that covers my line of vision is blue. Bright blue, not sky blue, just... powerful.

Sounds are amplified around me, people are screaming, something is exploding in the sky. I can hear, so strongly, the sound of clicking, snapping, and whirring.

The next thing that makes me worry more is the smell. So many smells, first it's the earthy Katniss that's been out hunting for the morning, then the Lamb Stew before we fought Cato. Raisin bread cooking in the oven. Then I smell fire; fire and burning wood.

I struggle to stand up and when I wipe my eyes, my face is wet and warm. I pull my hand back to look at it and see blood. My hands are coated in the stuff.

I wipe at my face again and the blood pouring from my head, I think, falls down into my eyes.

Staggering backwards through the trees, I slip over something and my body is out of my control. I'm falling and, when I've stopped, it's not because of lack of momentum or something in my way. I'm grabbed up into the latches of something and ripped from the forest floor.

My hands fumble over the metal contraption and I look up into the exploding sky to see the blaring white light of a helicopter.

"I'm not dead!" I shout, struggling to get out of it. A piece of the metal pinches under my arm and I wriggle again but it's no use.

The blood from my head wound has sopped my bangs and they lurch around together in a mess as I turn left and right at all of the other helicopters in the sky.

The lightening tree is flaring violently below my boots and I look around to see the different types of aircraft. The amount of them on it's own is overwhelming. But I notice that they all don't look alike.

And the only thing I can think as I'm yanked up into mine is:_ which one am I being brought into?_

Hands grab my chest, one touches the wound on my head, and then another pulls my arm around to look at it.

"No," the Peacekeeper says, "It's still in there."

"Let me go," I start to say as he injects a needle into my shoulder.

A swelling of exhaustion and sleep hits me as I turn to one of them and struggle to get free, "Where's Katniss?"

"Is she..." My vision wavers violently and the Peacekeepers armor starts to expand as I fall down on my knees, "Is she safe?" I can't feel the words my lips are making anymore. I can't hear my voice. I can't think.

And then I'm out. Like a light.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

LONG Chapter... *Vanishes to Opt B*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	27. Chapter 14 Option B: End of the World

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_**Please read fer infermation concerning Epilogue content, updates, and the interview, as well as Book 3.**_

These are the last chapters (Chapters 14). The **Epilogues **will be coming out in a sort of scattered order over the next week. I can't explain much more. But expect them. And read the author's notes fer more infermation as they come out.

If you want more of my info concerning anything, do follow me on **Twitter**. Many have already, but just saying, I will be keeping regular updates there. And most likely soon on my website. ^^

After the Epilogues, it will be about another week fer the **Interview**, and then a two week wait fer the **Chapters 1 of Book 3**.

Concerning the **INTERVIEW**, you have two weeks to submit questions, concerns, requests, ANYTHING you want to know. PM me, message me on Facebook, Tweet me, e-mail me, or put it in yer review. All are answered, promise.

The interview will have a sneak peak into the third part, as well as the title and date that it will be up.

_Now onto the real Author's note:_

Thank everyone fer reading and staying strong, and enjoying my werk.

If there are typos, please alert me, and I will try to get to them.

I love all of you, have a safe week, hope you all had a good mother's day and enjoyed maybe.. A dinner out?

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's yer favorite color?

**-Week 8: **ODD Pairing, guilty pleasure of Hunger Games? Mine is... Oy, gosh, have to admit it now that you've all answered. Haymitch and Katniss... DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! I'M WRITING A PEETA/KATNISS FIC. T-T

**-Week 7: **Preppy names? Too many to list. _

**-Week 6:** School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1:** Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

San: "Right? Hey, at least I'm here. And it'll be around fer a WHILE. XP Thank fer the review!"

Emily: "Aww, thank you. Yeah it's rly bad that I'm enjoying writing this more then reading the book too. I can hardly stand listening to it now. O.o Just... things shoulda been different. XP Yeah, I'm a weasel, I know. Would love a question or two from you. Or a request, those are fun. ^^ Oh, and ACTIVATE YER ACC! I demand it. Jk. Love you always, see you next time!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Hear me

I'm cryin' out

I'm ready now

Turn my world upside down

Find me

I'm lost inside the crowd

It's getting loud

I need you to see

I'm screaming for you to please

Hear me

* * *

**Chapter 14 - End of the World**

* * *

We've back-tracked enough to find Johanna, Finnick, Mags, and Beetee. Who are spread around the outside of the jungle. Mags is picking nuts, Johanna is watching out through the trees, Beetee is cutting down into the bark of one, and Finnick is watching over him.

"I guess they got a spile too?" I comment, thinking out loud.

"Where's Wiress?" Katniss asks from my side as we duck into the brush and watch from a far. I thought there had been someone missing, but I couldn't place it until now.

I shake my head in response, looking around the horn of the Cornucopia. There's a deep red blotch out near the water, but there's no body in sight.

"I don't see her anywhere," I whisper, "And the canon sounded earlier. Could it have been–"

Katniss's hands fly up to her mouth and she lets out a soft cry of denial, "Oh, Peeta."

"It's not our fault," I say, soothing my hand between her shoulders for comfort.

She's silent, calms herself down, moves forward slowly up over the squishy earth below her boots and then stops.

I look to her face, about to question her actions, and see the paling expression settling over it. Then I hear the scream as well, "What's that?" I ask, trying to listen for it again.

"Prim?" Katniss's voice shakes in fear and she looks around, every shade of flush, redness, or even sick wipes from her face and she starts to run deeper into the jungle.

"Katniss!" I shout after her, move to follow, but my face smacks hard into some sort of invisible wall and I fall back hard onto my ass.

Sitting up again, I can see her disappearing into the darkness of the trees.

I take out my dagger first, having left my sword with the others, and try slicing at the wall. Which is immediately a bad idea when the responding sound pierces deep into my skull, ringing and spinning my teeth on their connected nerves.

Not only that, but no scratch is even made on the glass/plastic wall with my sour attempt, nothing, and I stop after the second swipe of my blade; unable to endure it again.

I start to walk around the wall but there's no escape that way either and finally have to conclude that, where ever Katniss has gone, I can't follow.

So, instead of pacing and losing the spot where I last saw her, I sit down where I fell before and wait.

Time passes, and more often then not, I find myself reaching out again and again to check that the wall is still there. And it is.

Finally, Katniss does come back. I'm not clear how long it's been, it feels like forever to me, but I'm glad enough just to see her again. With her bow in hand, she stops and goes to say something to me when I reach up and touch the glass.

She closes her mouth, since I couldn't hear it anyways, reaches out, and frowns more. Tears streak her cheeks, she looks tired, exhausted, and worried. So she sits down on the other side and starts crying silently.

With nothing else to do, I sit and watch her, stomach twisting in concern. I want to reach out, to comfort her, to ask her what happened in there, but I can't do a thing. I can only watch her cry, and touch the glass in an attempt to let her know I'm still here for her.

And then I can hear it.

I reach out once again, after having put my hand down for the fourth time, and the glass is gone. Just like that.

I get up, move to her, and pull her into my arms.

She's clutching, sobbing against my chest, fingernails digging in my shoulders.

I lift her, bridal style, and take her back to where we were watching the others before this hours horror hit. I lay her down on the jungle floor and hug her close against me. Then I kiss her hair, her ears and lips, until she calms enough to talk.

"I know it wasn't really her," she says softly, "It was the jabberjays."

I nod, "Prim is safe."

"What if she isn't, though?" Katniss asks, looking up to see my face, "She made that sound, Peeta. How could she make that sound and still be alright?"

I shush her by kissing her lips again, "Prim is safe. I promise you that. Once the Tributes get down to eight left, they have to interview her. She's fine."

Katniss seems to calm at this, fingers the imitation mockingjay locket around my neck, and stares at it in silence while she hums softly.

I sit up and look out, watching as Finnick and his group have started walking over the beach, "Hey," I whisper, turning back, "Are you alright enough?"

Katniss nods but asks: "Why? Are they moving finally?"

"They are," I confirm.

We gather ourselves up, weapons, parachutes, and follow the group down into the side of the beach as the wave, which is at three, recedes.

* * *

Sitting quietly again, hiding in the jungle, I decide it's time to talk more about the end game plan. Despite the pain it'll bring, some important things have to be said.

"You know," I start, softly, and she turns to me, "You have to live, Katniss."

She frowns, about to say something, but I continue before she can, "If I lose you, if you die, and you fight this whole time for me to live, I'm not just losing you. I'm losing everything."

Her eyes blink wildly to fight back tears, "Peeta–"

"You have to live, Katniss."

She closes her mouth and looks away. Her eyes squeeze tightly closed as if she could shut out what I'm about to say.

"Hey," I take her chin and turn her back to look at me. I stare, not blinking, not smiling, and tell her as seriously as I can: "You're pregnant. It's my child. And you **have **to live for it. And your mother, and Prim. They need you, Katniss."

"I can't live without you–"

"You have to," I say, cutting her off. The tears spill down her cheeks and she starts to cry but I continue on, "You have to live for me–"

"Do you know how stupid that sounds?" She asks, raising her voice, "How can I live without you? I just–I can't. I don't want to be like my mom–hardly living, day by day. Watching the world pass without you."

"What would I have?" I ask, fighting back tears myself, raising my voice unintentionally. "What would I have left if you died here, Katniss? Nothing. My child, my wife. My entire life. You're everything. It wouldn't be called 'living' if I lost you. Surviving, maybe. Struggling, more accurate. But still not quite it. I would have nothing to live for anymore."

She stops, stares at me sadly as her bottom lip quivers, "Peeta, please–"

"My life has always been about you, Katniss. I'm nothing without that," I whisper, choking over a sob, but I force myself to stare at her still, "I know it's pathetic. It makes me look really dumb and weak. But I don't have anything if I don't have you in my life."

I pull the locket from around my neck and put it on her's. I open it, show her the pictures inside, and she stares down at it in my hands. Her mother and Prim, and me. Then I free one of my hands to run it over her slightly swollen belly.

"You're going to be the mother of my baby," I whisper in her ear. "Isn't that worth living? For my son?"

Katniss does something then that I don't see coming at all. She smiles. It's a sad, bittersweet smile that breaks my heart more then her tears could. Her own hand runs over mine then as she says: "Alright."

She's given up on arguing.

I sit by her, our backs against a dead tree, and hug her close, "This doesn't mean I'm not going to fight until there's just the two of us left. I haven't given up completely on living. But if I have the chance to take something that's about to kill you, I'm going to do it. You can't stop me from that, Katniss."

She nods, laughing sadly as the tears spill down her cheeks still, one by one. "I've asked before, but maybe more serious now... What would you name him, Peeta?"

I stare at her; at her lips, at her beautiful sharp eyebrows, at her intense and knowing grey eyes, then at her strong hands. "Beautiful," it's the only thing I can think of at that moment, besides for how our child will look.

"That's not a name," she says, smiling wide.

"No," I say, running my fingers along her left wrist, "But that's what he'll be; created by our love. Our genes mixed, our looks, nothing can be more perfect then that. Nothing more beautiful. And," I whisper again, "Maybe he'll look like me a bit?"

Katniss presses her lips together and looks out into the forest. She's silent, she doesn't even look like she's going to say anything.

I reach out, tuck back a lock of her hair, and ask: "What are you thinking about?"

Her lips tighten more and then she looks down at our hands, "Just... Seeing him. Every day. Seeing you."

Then I'm struggling inwardly, heart swelling, tears stinging again, but I nod and keep that part from her, "You're not going to argue that it could be a 'she'? Or not look like me at all?"

Katniss laughs and turns to me, presses her lips to mine, and then pulls away quickly, "No. Your brothers both look like you, your father looks like you. It's a dominate trait."

"Ah," I joke, smooth my palm over her stomach and smile, "So it's useless to argue?"

"Useless," she confirms.

We both quiet down after that. I lay down with her as we take to sleep and, just as I close my eyes, I hear her whisper: "Just as useless to convince you to live, for me."

I can't decide if she means it as in 'you're being selfless, letting me live' or 'you're being selfish, letting me live'.

Whether selfless or selfish, it's the only thing I can live with. It's always been that way. And that's what I tell her.

"Always."

* * *

In the morning, things move so fast that it feels like the arena is trying to speed events along. We hunt for food, we eat it, and around nine we're ready to leave and follow Finnick and his team away from the beach.

Beetee has taken out some time and explained something to them for most of the morning, what it is, we're not sure. But we follow them through the jungle as they take off in the direction of the lightning tree.

Katniss, just steps ahead of me, shoots one of the large, weird rats down from a tree and packs it in an unused parachute as we continue on. It's silent traveling, occasional questions and stop for restroom relief, but other then that, it's fast-going.

We finally reach the lightening tree and wait in hiding as the group separates. Beetee, who observes the tree, seems to be planning something involving it.

Katniss leans in to whisper in my ear, "What could they possibly be up to?"

I shake my head but as Beetee messes around with the force field near them, my mind starts clicking. I'm not a genius, not from his district, or even taught anything like it, but there's something here that I can see as plain as day.

"Could he be..." I struggle with the words, "planning something? With the lightening and the wire?"

"Wire?"

I look at Katniss, then point to the metal cylinder in Beetee's hands, "The tree, the lightning, the wire? That amounts to something, doesn't it?" It's a desperate pull, but those three connected might cause some problems.

Katniss watches Beetee close and then whispers, "Maybe run the wire to the beach?"

My heart starts pounding in my ears, "That's insane." But I can't think of anything else that makes sense. Lightening, in all of that water... Would it effect the jungle? So damp and squishy? And the beach sand...

As we follow the group from the tree before noon, into the Blood Rain section of the arena, my mind mulls it over.

Lightening through that wire, through the forest, into the water on the beach. The sand would be soaked, damp. And if placed right, could probably kill or fry anyone around. Like Beetee's trap when he won his own games.

We shouldn't ever be standing on the beach.

And considering that we're hiding out in the edge of the jungle, watching them eat seafood, it's obvious that we're going to be making a second trip tonight to the lightening tree. More strain on my wounded leg.

Katniss sets her bow down and sits on the jungle floor, "I don't know whether to go hunting for more food or just relax, they're not staying here for the night."

I nod, hungry, and look around, "Well, what are you in the mood for?" Just as I ask this though, Katniss points up to a large parachute falling gently down to us.

She lurches forward to see that Haymitch has went out on a limb this time.

There's lots of District 4 bread, lamb stew, and some dipping sauce. Even proper bowls and spoons.

"He has the best timing."

I watch Katniss pour some of her spice into the stew, even over the hard top of the bread, and she closes her eyes in pleasure as she bites in.

We eat, enjoy ourselves, and just are finishing up when the group on the beach starts to pack.

* * *

Following back with full bellies now, spoiled bellies even, is much easier this time then it was earlier. Katniss hid most of what we had in a hollow tree before we left since it was just too much to carry.

"What time is it?" I ask between controlled breaths.

Katniss looks up through the trees, staring at the sky, and sighs, "Nearly nine, I guess. It's hard to tell. At ten is the wave."

"So we're fine then, as long as we're away from the lightening zone before midnight."

"Yeah."

We reach the large tree and climb up a bit into a regular one some distance away. At ten or so, Beetee finishes and we watch in anticipation as Finnick and Johanna take the metal cylinder and begin walking away with it.

"Where are they going?" Katniss hisses hurriedly.

I look between them, "Are they going far?" I ask back, "Should we follow?"

All that's left standing at the tree is Beetee and Mags, which we're probably more safe against.

Katniss starts climbing down, "Watch them, I'll track out Finnick and Johanna. If they go too far, I'll double back."

"Are you sure?" I ask in concern, "You're... Well, you're pregnant. Maybe I should do it."

She gives me a sarcastic glare, "What? I might puke while following?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I laugh and start to climb down as well, "I just mean it'd be less work for you. We've walked a lot today. I can do it, and–"

"I'm more quiet then you, though," she argues, "I can move more stealthily. And what about your leg? Did you forget about that?"

I nod finally, point taken, but then stop her from leaving by taking her hands in mine, "Be careful, Katniss."

She smiles and shrugs, "Of course. In this arena, careful is everything."

I brush my fingers over her cheek and kiss her. Then I hand her my sword, "Take this. Just in case you need to cut the wire?"

She looks down at it and then nods, "Alright. If I see a chance, I'll take it. It's not our loss."

Then I let her hands go and watch her leave.

The unease settles over me immediately. Katniss disappears out in the shadows of the night, chill creeps in, worry, dread, concern, fear, doubt. I don't want to have her out of my sight.

To comfort myself, I take the bow from my shoulder and watch out at Beetee and Mags.

Beetee, with my dagger I left behind with them, is wrapping a free part of the wire around it. An odd gesture and I lean in to get a better look when I hear something behind me, a breath, a presence.

"Peeta."

I turn immediately, bow and arrow ready and then stop to see his hands up by his head in nervous apology. And surrender.

"Chaff?" I ask, looking around in fear and astonishment, "What are you doing?"

"I'm on your side," he whispers quickly.

I decide to lower my bow, in an attempt to tease him into acting out against me, "Why?"

He opens his mouth when a loud sound from back at the lightening tree startles us both and we look around to see that Beetee has attempted to throw my dagger at the force field, and instead, been blown back off of his feet. Immediately afterwards, the metal line running into the forest ahead, where Johanna and Finnick (and Katniss) have went, goes slack.

Chaff touches my shoulder and whispers, "Quick now, Peeta. Give me your hand."

I turn back, "What?"

He reaches around and takes it without my consent.

"What are you doing?" I start to ask when he pulls a knife from his belt, "Hey!" I struggle to get my hand from him, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Peeta!" I pull away from Chaff with a yank and turn around at the sound of Katniss's voice.

"Katniss!" I string another arrow and take off through the woods in the direction I'd heard her, "Katniss!"

A cannon sounds, rocking through the jungle and I could swear that even the ground shuddered at it. My heart skips a beat. "Katniss!"

And there's no response.

The blood pumps through me, adrenaline coursing, heart pulsing in my ears and I grab backwards at Chaff's arm, "Come on!"

He shouts in pain suddenly and falls forward into me.

"Chaff!" I hiss, grabbing him to stop him from falling over completely. I turn to guard his body from the next possible attack when a blade pierces my chest.

"I've been waiting to take you down, Star-crossed lover boy." My eyes go up to meet Enobaria, standing red-faced and moving out from the shadows just a step in front of me. Before she can say anything else I, being much taller, larger, and stronger then her, stand upright and slam my fist down into her nose.

The knife in my chest stings and I fight the urge to pull it out. Instead, I reach around as Chaff hands me his own, then I turn back to the wounded girl at my feet and stab it into her forehead.

Her body wriggles at the action against her and then she's limp, dead. Eyes staring up at me. And the cannon announces her passing.

I look at Chaff again, "Are you still with me?" I ask, "Where did she get you?"

"Just my side," he rasps, "it's alright, I think."

I lean down to take a look when a bright blue light ahead of me appears. I have less then a second to think,_ what now? _And the world around me explodes.

Chaff and I are thrown back off our feet, he lands his elbow in my gut when we fall and I gasp, choking on air. My head hits hard on a rock behind me and I'm knocked for a loop, eyes rolling, mind whirring, as I struggle to stay awake.

My head pounds, annoyed at me. The adrenaline is escalating and everything I hear is so sharp. There's an odd strong wind sound, powerful, and high above. The trees around me are alive with ruffling, someone's trying to shake me and scream at me. But the sound I hear most is fear. Katniss's screams are still here and the canon seems to be going off everywhere. I open my eyes as the fireworks start up in the sky, and I can't quite see straight.

Chaff is over me immediately, saying something before I see a large claw come down from... I think it's a helicopter, it's what they use to take away bodies. But neither Chaff, nor I, are dead.

It catches around him and begins to take him up. He's struggling, then calming when he sees what's happening, and... waves at me? That's an odd thing to do. He could be moments from being killed.

I stand up now, my real leg shaking in fear. I start to stagger through the jungle, tripping over things, falling sometimes. Something in the bottom corner of my vision startles me until I realize that it's the black handle of the knife that's still protruding from my chest.

I'm running for what feels like forever when, stopping to breathe, something grabs me from behind. I'd just been wasting energy, it was only a matter of time before the helicopter watching above caught me.

With flailing arms, madly trying to escape, bloody fists gripping at the claws, I'm lifted up into the air, metal pulling tight as my weight struggles to keep me on the ground.

The trees begin to fall away and I look down below my boots to see the Lightening Tree, flashing violently. The sky is filled with helicopters. But I can't help noticing that they're different. A painting I might make some day, of the rain and storm and sky. Different helicopters, two different kinds. And I can't stop wondering what each of them means.

One for the dead? One for the living? One for the alive, soon to be dead? And which one am I being pulled up into?

I look up as the door of it comes closer, arms reach out to grab me, yank me inside. A sting in the back of my neck as I turn to grab the gun from one of the Peacekeeper's hands. I take it up in my palms, slam the butt of it into the side of his head, and he falls out of the open door.

Hands are trying to pull, trying to stop me, but I'm kicking, fighting, screaming.

"Let me go!" My voice is hoarse, scared, tearing through my throat, ripping it up and attacking my vocal chords, "Let go! Katniss! Where's Katniss!"

They stick me two more times.

"Put me back in there!" I demand, moving to get back out of the floating vehicle, "I have to go back in there!"

One of the men, annoyed more then the others I think, snatches the gun from my hands and another pain shoots through my neck. Most likely another needle.

My vision blurs immediately. I can't feel my fingers, I can't feel anything. And finally, _is it really finally? _Things go black. Sound goes out, the voices, the exploding sky, the sound of my screaming smears into silence.

And the worry for Katniss... is gone.

Just like me.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Omg, end of chapters! Yeah. Please wait fer more, you never know when it will be within the next week? O.o *Vanish... for now*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	28. Option C Beginning: Friends or Foes?

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option C**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Bet you weren't expecting an update like this, eh?

Alright everyone, time to explain myself.

**THIS IS NOT AN EPILOGUE.** **XP**

There will be construction going on with my website, which involves this story. I can't say too much, but you will be pleasantly surprised.

Also, what is this and why is it happening?

In the Chapters 9, you would see my review response to one **BarryTrotter**. You could go back and read it but I'll just put it here. I said:

"Yer suggestion fer book 3 makes me cry, because the two options are already picked. BUT, BUT, of course there's a 'but'. Who said I wouldn't consider a... dun, dun, dun... **OPTION C**?"

Yeah, that's been in Chapters 9 since I posted them. Surprising what you can skip up, eh? There's things like that everywhere too. In review response you can't see just as well. XP Me, being sneaky.

So, what is Option C, you might ask.

Well, read and find out.

Lastly, remember that the interview is after the epilogues, please feel free to submit any questions or requests, anything at all, and I will be very happy to answer them in it. You can send by way of pm, e-mail, facebook, or twitter. You can request scenes that are missed and you wanted to see, or even completely alternated scenes between different characters. You can ask questions about anything from this story, or my original werk. You can ask about my history, really. Anything's up fer grabs.

Thank you all so much fer reading, hope you enjoy these little shorts! Please continue, enjoy and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's yer favorite color?

**-Week 8: **ODD Pairing, guilty pleasure of Hunger Games? Mine is... Oy, gosh, have to admit it now that you've all answered. Haymitch and Katniss... DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! I'M WRITING A PEETA/KATNISS FIC. T-T

**-Week 7:** Preppy names? Too many to list. _

**-Week 6: **School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1: **Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

No name review from Chapter 2: "I don't know what yer saying. /hug Was there suppose to be a link there?"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Chances, hunger; insatiable

Life is changing

Unpredictable

Hear me calling: where are you now?

Will we meet anyway, anyhow

Where do we end?

Where do we begin?

Are we lost, or must we lose to win?

* * *

**Friends or Foes?**

* * *

"_I've been in the Arena so long, defense of Katniss still comes first."_

* * *

"_I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again."_

* * *

"I want to go with them as a guard."

"You're too slow–"

I move to Katniss and Johanna, "I'm going anyways."

Johanna gives me an astonished look and Katniss smiles.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," I explain, "especially since it wasn't a question."

Beetee and Finnick share a significant look before Johanna finally says: "Whatever. If we get fried, it's your fault."

It's unrealistic, but it doesn't stop it from bothering me any less.

Katniss and Johanna take to rolling out the wire and I track ahead of them with bow and arrow set, eyes watching out for anything ahead or around.

We're nearly halfway down when Katniss lets out a surprised gasp and I look back to them to see that the end of the wire has been cut by something behind us.

Katniss looks to me and starts to grab her arrow when Johanna takes the metal cylinder and slams it into her face.

"Katniss!" I turn, aim, and release.

Johanna's thrown back off of her feet as the arrow hits her right shoulder, "You dumb ass!"

She starts to get back up when I take the cylinder, throw it off to the side and glare down at her, "Give me one reason not to kill you." Just as I say this though, I hear footsteps coming through the jungle back behind us. I string another arrow, turn and let it fly the second my gaze meets Brutus's.

It catches him through the eye and he's slung back, body slamming down to the ground. And it's like the cannon is the sound of his form landing. Dead.

Enobaria, reaching us, pulls up a sword from Brutus's body. She goes in for a swipe from above her head, but I throw down my weapons and pitch forward, driving my shoulder into her stomach and throwing us both to the ground.

She wriggles, tries to stab me but I grab her wrist, twist it so that she screams and lets go of the sword.

Ignoring her legs, though, I don't realize it as she bends one up and slams her knee hard between my legs. Stars dot my vision, but I'm more pissed off then in pain. I punch her in the face twice before standing back from her.

I turn around, run to Katniss, who's just standing up, "Are you alright?"

She nods slightly and grabs my arm, "What was Johanna doing?"

"I'm not sure, but she's not here now–" the sound of more footsteps coming, _who could it be this time?_

I grab Katniss up in my arms and drag her behind a few trees as Finnick comes down the slope.

"Peeta!" He shouts as he sees both Brutus and Enobaria's bodies, "Katniss! Johanna!"

"Can we trust him?" Katniss asks.

I cover her mouth and shake my head.

He leaves finally, and I lift up Katniss into my arms to carry her back up to the tree. It's useless to stay around here. But maybe if we can get back to Beetee we can figure out what to do next. If he's on our side.

So, Brutus is dead, Enobaria's probably out for a while, Johanna's wounded. Which leaves Finnick, Katniss, me, and Beetee. And Chaff.

But as I reach the tree, it's obvious that something else has been happening while we were down the slope.

Beetee's wounded, one of Katniss's arrows in his hand is wrapped up in the wire and I look at it for a moment. _What on Earth was he trying to do?_

Katniss is at my side now, reaching forward and grabbing the arrow from Beetee's hand. She strings it and aims up for something.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I turn and she lets it go.

Before I can ask again, or grab her, I'm thrown off of my feet as the tree takes light and the force field she's shot the arrow at explodes.

My back hits hard on the slope and I start falling, down, rolling. My head hits a rock hard, my body tumbles, vision spinning and I can see nothing but bright blue light through the trees.

Finally, I start to slow, and stand up to get my balance when something wraps around my entire frame.

"What?" I look down and see the claws just as I'm ripped up from the spongy grass of the jungle floor.

I throw my hands out, looking around and up to try and get free, "What? No!"

But I can't break out of this stupid claw, and I'm finally up, being pulled inside of the helicopter, and my eyes meet one Plutarch Heavensbee.

He reaches out, closes my eyes, and I feel a pain in my arm. Sharp, stinging, ripping, something digging down and in.

There's another soft sting in my neck. Probably a needle. And that's the last of what I can grasp onto before all sense of wake leaves my body.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Short, yes. Something fer you to think about. Feel free to review. They're always loved.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	29. Option D Beginning: The Falling Sky

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option D**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Option C is an alternate of Option A. And Option D is an alternate of Option B. Sense making?

**THIS IS NOT AN EPILOGUE. XP**

There will be construction on my website, which involves this story.

If you haven't read Option c's AN, I will give you this input:

In the Chapters 9, you would see my review response to one **BarryTrotter**. You could go back and read it but I'll just put it here. I said:

"Yer suggestion fer book 3 makes me cry, because the two options are already picked. BUT, BUT, of course there's a 'but'. Who said I wouldn't consider a... dun, dun, dun... **OPTION C**?"

Yeah, that's been in Chapters 9 since I posted them. Surprising what you can skip up, eh? There's things like that everywhere too. In review response you can't see just as well. XP Me, being sneaky.

And still, remember that the interview is after the epilogues, please feel free to submit any questions or requests, anything at all, and I will be very happy to answer them in it. You can send by way of pm, e-mail, facebook, or twitter. You can request scenes that are missed and you wanted to see, or even completely alternated scenes between different characters. You can ask questions about anything from this story, or my original werk. You can ask about my history, really. Anything's up fer grabs.

Thank you all so much fer reading, hope you enjoy these little shorts! Please continue, enjoy and have a nice steaming cup of yaoi!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's yer favorite color?

**-Week 8: **ODD Pairing, guilty pleasure of Hunger Games? Mine is... Oy, gosh, have to admit it now that you've all answered. Haymitch and Katniss... DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! I'M WRITING A PEETA/KATNISS FIC. T-T

**-Week 7:** Preppy names? Too many to list. _

**-Week 6: **School colors? Red, White, Gray.

**-Week 5:** Noname, to be a hopeless romantic like Peeta? Not so much.

**-Week 4:** Tall? Yes

**-Week 3:** His clique in school? First a nobody, then a somebody/Jock.

**-Week 2:** Gender of the Main Character? Male.

**-Week 1: **Original story by me, Genre? Future/not Earth, School based story. JUST AS MATURE AS THIS FANFIC. Thorough and broaching topics such as: Divorcing, Drugs, Suicide, Anorexia, Bullies, Status Quo, Rape, Sibling Rivalry, Teen Pregnancy, Popularity and many, many more things. If you have other ideas feel free to suggest.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

No name review from Chapter 2: "I don't know what yer saying. /hug Was there suppose to be a link there?"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Hear me

I'm cryin' out

I'm ready now

Turn my world upside down

Find me

I'm lost inside the crowd

It's getting loud

I need you to see

I'm screaming for you to please

Hear me

* * *

**The Falling Sky**

* * *

"_I still feel like I'm fighting for you now. And it's been months."_

* * *

"_It wouldn't be called 'living' if I lost you. Surviving, maybe. Struggling, more accurate. But still not quite it. I would have nothing to live for anymore."_

* * *

"Chaff?" I ask, looking around in fear and astonishment, "What are you doing?"

"I'm on your side," he whispers quickly.

I decide to lower my bow, in an attempt to tease him into acting out against me, "Why?"

He opens his mouth when a loud sound from back at the lightening tree startles us both and we look around to see that Beetee has attempted to throw my dagger at the force field, and instead, been blown back off of his feet. Immediately afterwards, the metal line running into the forest ahead, where Johanna and Finnick (and Katniss) have went, goes slack.

Chaff touches my shoulder and whispers, "Quick now, Peeta. Give me your hand."

I turn back, "What?"

"Your hand, give me your hand!"

I stretch it out to him and he pulls a knife from his belt, "I just need to get the tracker out."

"Tracker?" I ask and he nods.

He stabs the knife in and my body shudders, I fight not to move, tears blurring my vision as he tries to comfort me, "Yes, the tracker. It's–"

"Peeta!" I turn at the sound of Katniss's voice.

"Katniss!" I shout back to her, looking around in the direction she's coming from, "Katniss!"

"Wait!" Chaff shouts, and holds my arm tighter.

A cannon sounds, rocking through the jungle and I could swear that even the ground shuddered at it. My heart skips a beat. "Katniss!"

And there's no response.

Chaff lets my arm free and throws the tracker away, "Let's go!"

I nod, ignoring the searing, screaming pain in my arm, ignoring the trickling blood as I run through, grabbing my bow back up and stringing an arrow.

Adrenaline coursing, heart pulsing in my ears, I stop as Chaff shouts in pain suddenly and falls forward into me.

"Chaff!" I hiss, grabbing him to stop his fall. I turn to guard his body when a blade swipes out at my face, catching my upper cheekbone.

"I've been waiting to take you down, Star-crossed lover boy."

I look back to see Enobaria, standing red-faced and panting just a step in front of me. Before she can say anything else I, being much taller, larger, and stronger then her, stand upright and slam my fist down into her nose. I reach around as Chaff hands me his knife, then I turn back to the wounded girl at my feet and stab it into her forehead.

Her body wriggles at the action against her and then she's limp, dead. Eyes staring up at me. And the cannon announces her passing.

I look at Chaff again, "Are you still with me?" I ask, "Where did she get you?"

"Just my side," he rasps, "it's alright, I think."

I lean down to take a look when a bright blue light ahead of me appears. I have less then a second to think,_ what now? _And the world around me explodes.

Chaff and I are thrown back off our feet, he lands his elbow in my gut when we fall and I gasp, choking on air. My head hits hard on a rock behind me and I'm knocked for a loop, eyes rolling, mind whirring, as I struggle to stay awake.

My head pounds, annoyed at me. The adrenaline is escalating and everything I hear is so sharp. There's an odd strong wind sound, powerful, and high above. The trees around me are alive with ruffling, someone's trying to shake me and scream at me. But the sound I hear most is fear. Katniss's screams are still here and the cannon seems to be going off everywhere. I open my eyes as the fireworks start up in the sky, and I can't quite see straight.

Chaff gets up and helps me to my feet, he then points above us and I look to the sky.

Before I can ask what it is I see a large claw come down from... I think it's a helicopter, it's what they use to take away bodies. But neither Chaff, nor I, are dead.

I'm about to jump back when it opens wide and catches me up, lifting me off of the ground.

With flailing arms, madly trying to escape, bloody fists gripping at the claws, metal pulling tight as my weight struggles against it, I look down to see Chaff smiling up at me.

The trees begin to fall away and I see the Lightening Tree, flashing violently. I look up again as the door of the hovercraft I'm being pulled into reaches me, arms reach out to grab me, pull me slowly inside.

My feet reach solid ground again and Plutarch Heavensbee smiles wide.

"Calm down, Peeta," he says as he moves forward and helps me to sit, "Relax."

I look around the people in the helicopter and don't see any other Tributes, "Where's Katniss? Where is she?"

Plutarch nods and a needle is pressed into my neck from someone at my side.

I turn, grab the man's wrist to stop him, and feel all sense of power leave me. My body slows, vision going out, hand releasing and falling down at my side.

And then all sense of fear and concern leave me.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Please read the Author's Note if yer confused. Or hell, ask me. XP The Author's Note, however, is not just there to look nice, promise.

Reviews are loved.

~KaKaVegeGurl


	30. Option A: Epilogue

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option A**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_**Please read fer infermation concerning Option confusion, updates, and the interview, as well as Book 3.**_

Option A and B are posted today. Option C and D will be within the next week. Then, and only then, will I release info about the interview and the next part.

Yes, before anyone asks AGAIN, I am writing all options. A, B, C, and D will be regularly posted.

As to how I'm going to do this, I'm not sure yet. Maybe one every three days? I don't know. I might try keeping it at 'all of them posted each week'. But I'm already having a hard time getting out these. .

I know it's hard to keep up with two plots, let alone four. But I'd really like to get more options rolling, and so far I love them all.

But posting all four on fanfiction dot net seems like overkill; four posts is just insane.

What I may end up doing is posting like... Chapters 1 of Option C and D on here, to give you an idea of what it'll be like, and then putting the rest on my website or something. I dunno.

I don't want to go blathering on and on in the A/N. So fer more infermation about it, please read my interview when it's posted.

If you haven't already: follow me on **Twitter**. Many have, but I will be keeping regular updates there.

Still on in the **INTERVIEW**, you have time to submit questions, concerns, requests, etc. PM me, message me on Facebook, Tweet me, e-mail me, or put it in yer review.

The interview will have a sneak peak into the third part, as well as the title and date that it will be up.

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's an odd word or expression/term that you find you use often?

**-Last Week: **What's yer favorite color? Mine is Cerulean Blue.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_No anonymous, that's a shocker. O.o_

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Don't kid yourself, and don't fool yourself

This love's too good to last

And I'm too old to dream

Don't grow up too fast, and don't embrace the past

This life's too good to last

And I'm too young to care

Don't kid yourself, and don't fool yourself

This life could be the last

And we're too young to see

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

_Does this end?_

_Does the game ever end?_

_Does it even matter at all that I've been fighting through every moment with Katniss? That, since I admitted I loved her out loud, I've been fighting to save her life? That I've lied to people, twisted them, and twisted myself to protect her?_

_How many times do I have to hurt, until I'm permanently numb from the pain?_

_More then what I have so far, clearly. Because despite being thrown around, played with, and manipulated, I can still get better and I can still hurt._

_My entire body feels like I've been hit by a train._

* * *

I slowly open my eyes, peer around, and immediately see a doctor standing next to me. My body, stiff as a board and probably bruised from neck to heel, protests as I struggle to sit up.

The doctor turns in surprise. His white coat clean and pressed, clipboard of thick papers in his grip, silver framed square glasses, and wide honest smile comfort me enough to relax back down. He's an older man, probably in his mid-fifties, with a white mustache and short trimmed hair.

"Hello Peeta." His voice is warming, calming, and he moves to check my forehead.

"Oh!" I go to sit up again and he holds my shoulders against the bed to stop me.

"Stay still, Peeta," he says calmly, giving me a serene smile as he does something around my hairline that I can't quite see, "You received massive trauma to your skull. You probably remember a lot of blood–"

"I do," I watch what I can of his wrists as they move above me, "What happened?"

The Doctor stops finally and takes a seat, setting his clipboard down in his lap, "What do you remember?"

I think about it, mind going back and struggling to see anything... _But I don't... I just–just barely..._

"Katniss," I whisper, struggling to think, reaching out to grab onto the closest image, "Katniss and Johanna, and the wire... Chaff being killed. Brutus. I–that's all I can remember."

He nods, taking up a pen and writing down things as I talk, "I expected as much. Katniss aimed an arrow and blew up a box that controlled the force field. Can you remember that at all?"

I turn my head, trying to see through all of the blue flashes, then I nod, "Yeah, I was calling for her?"

"That's right," he confirms, scribbling faster, "When the force field released, the lightening tree got struck and it threw you back. You probably don't remember that at all." I shake my head and he continues, "What happened is: you hit a part of your neck and skull, and that probably caused a lot of your senses to go out of sorts. Hearing, smelling–"

"Lamb stew!" I gasp, remembering, "Yeah, and sounds were loud and I could smell the Lamb Stew. And my head was bleeding–"

"Yes," the Doctor touches again where his hands were before and closes his eyes, "A sharp rock sliced above your right eyebrow when you landed after the explosion. You'll probably be shown the recording at a later time, I'm sure. But the damage was severe to your head. You're really sensitive right now. Memories will probably come back better in time, but it's best just to let them come at their own pace, and to try not to push them out."

"Where's Katniss?" I finally ask, growing impatient.

The Doctor bows his head though, not a reaction I'm wanting, and then he lets out a deep sigh, "Katniss was taken by hovercraft from District Thirteen–"

"Dis–what!" I move to sit up again and he stops me for the third time.

"Please, stay down," he says, calm still, "You have suffered massive trauma, Peeta, I can't urge that anymore. It's imperative that you stay in bed, head level with the rest of your body. Once you've finished resting, Snow will meet with you and talk about things, but for now you just need to heal and get better. What's happening to Katniss is out of anyone's control, do you understand? You need to be concerned with you right now, or you'll injure yourself."

I mumble a soft 'yes', letting my heartbeat slow down again, and force myself to stay put this time. "Thank you."

He nods, "Just rest, Peeta. Please."

I close my eyes and try best not to worry, not to think, which is near impossible.

Katniss, where ever she is, has to be more safe then me. If she's been taken to District Thirteen then she's not in Snow's hands; like I am.

_There's nothing more I can do for her then what I can do here, _I think silently as I struggle to sleep on my back. _Convincing Snow of her innocence is vital. I have to protect her._

_It's like I've said so many times before, we never left the arena; Katniss and I. We're still in there._

_I'm still fighting for her._

_The only thing that has changed is the target._

* * *

The next time I wake up, the doctor is still standing there over me.

He helps me sit up first, making sure to move my head slowly and without any jerking, and then he gives me something to eat.

"The surgery is all done," he's saying as he watches me closely. He checks my eyes for reaction and finally removes the bandage from my head.

"How long have I been out?" I ask, voice weak and raspy from lack of use.

The Doctor looks at the food in my hands as I clear through it and then smiles, "Nine hours."

We're both silent after that until I finish and he helps me up from the bed, "The nurse will be with you in a moment," he explains as he snaps an odd bracelet onto my wrist, "Do you have any questions before I go?"

I shake my head, staring at the device, and he leaves.

In the emptiness that follows, I move to the end of the bed and start to get dressed in the clothes provided for me at the foot of it. Just as I'm getting my pants buttoned, the door opens and the nurse walks in with a tray in hand.

He joins me, setting the it down on the bed and helps to tie my shoes, "How are you feeling, Peeta?"

"Considerably better." I start in on a bread roll from the tray, eating as much as I can as fast as I can.

He helps me into my shirt and walks me out of the room, "You just come this way now."

"Where am I going?" I ask as we tread through the hallway.

"You'll see soon enough."

I'm taken out of the hospital, or that's what I'm guessing it is, and then put into a car with a Peacekeeper sitting across from me. The door shuts and locks, and I find myself looking across at the only other person in the vehicle.

"Peeta Mellark," he says, face hidden beneath a helmet. Most Peacekeepers don't wear helmets, so this kind of surprises me, but I remain impassive and nod in response.

"Are we going to see President Snow?" I ask. It's the only rational person I can imagine going to at this point. Honestly, what else would they do with me?

"Of course." His helmet turns as if he's looking outside, "Snow's been waiting for you."

"Sounds right," I say, nerves twisting my intestines as the car speeds along, "And who are you?"

The Peacekeeper, surprising me again, takes off his helmet at last and looks at me, "My name is Fields," he explains, "I'm sort of the... Peacekeeper General, if you want to call it that. Most people just call me Fields; it's more comfortable that way."

"You're kind of young to be in such a position, aren't you?" I ask.

He shrugs though, "Age is nothing but a number. And besides, I could ask the same about you."

This comment is the first to really make me feel uncomfortable and I try my hardest to hide it, "As far as I know, I didn't do anything wrong."

"Maybe, maybe not," Fields says, watching me closely, "You have to convince Snow of that though, not me."

"Innocent until proven guilty," I say, more to myself then him and the car stops.

He opens the door and steps out, gesturing for me to follow.

When I step onto the pavement and look up, I'm overwhelmed by the sheer size of the building before me. It towers like a giant, blocking out the sun, and the doors open wide; big enough to fit my parent's bakery through.

The faces, all with helmets on, is more uncomfortable then anything. Peacekeepers, so many of them inside of the first room of the building, in their white uniforms, guns in their hands, staring at me.

I walk in, head held high, back straightened, palms sweating, and begin my trek through the large open hallway.

"Peeta Mellark," a voice says, parting the Peacekeepers in front of me.

Snow, opening his arms to welcome me into his... home? And I have to set my jaw so I don't shout at him.

I reach him, holding my left hand more open so that the cold breeze in the room catches the sweat and drys it, "Snow," I say, stretching the arm out and he starts to take my hand in one palm, then changes, to grasp mine in both of his.

He smiles wide, looking completely content, and ushers me out of the room to join him in his office. Then he advises me to take a seat.

Once down in a chair, I feel less vulnerable, and I watch him make his way around his desk and sit in the seat there.

He stares, smiling the same cat-with-the-cream expression and then says: "I've been waiting a very long time to be able to talk to you, Peeta. Since the first games, in fact."

I raise my brow, but nod, "It's nice to finally meet you, Snow."

"Yes," he takes up a piece of paper and stares at it for a moment, "We've met, of course, at dinners, but never one on one, I'm afraid. And I hate now, for it to be on such a negative note."

"Negative?" I ask, unsure.

"Are you aware of Katniss blowing up the force field?" He asks suddenly, looking up to me, "That she did it as intended?"

I shrug, "Maybe. I remember her aiming the arrow, yes. But the word 'intended' can be interpreted in very many ways."

Snow stares at me, eyes digging in, "Intended, as in... She deliberately hit the force field, with expectancy of uproar and catastrophe. That she's a traitor, working with District Thirteen, along side Haymitch Abernathy?"

"That's not right."

"Is it?" President Snow puts down his paper and smiles, "Haymitch has proven before that he's had intentions of following his own set rules and principles. Would you argue for his innocence?"

"I wouldn't argue for his treason," I say, straining to hold my faith and trust even though it's being strained.

Snow raises a brow, "But you don't think he's innocent?"

"I think he's a grown man," I explain, "You're a man yourself, surely you don't expect them all to fall in line like little ducks."

"No, of course not. But his intentions–"

"Were done by Katniss, as I recall," I interrupt, "And as far as I know, nearly the entire night was a mess of unraveled plans and misunderstanding, as well as confusion, concern and panic on all sides. You're misunderstanding just as much as we were."

"Explain then, surely you know more then I do."

"Surely, I do," I argue back, despite his sarcasm, "Haymitch and Katniss can hardly stand each other most of the time. Katniss and I are the ones that are close; she would've told me. And Haymitch and I are just as close. He couldn't have kept something like District Thirteen a secret, not like that. They're both innocent."

_It's convincing._ I'll admit_. But I can say there's definitely one person that isn't convinced._

_Me._

I can't help thinking that:_ maybe I've got it wrong. Maybe they __**were **__working together._

_Maybe neither of them told me._

"They're also both in District Thirteen as we speak."

I shrug, even though my stomach clinches, and I try to look casual, "That's a possibility, Snow, if District Thirteen even exists; Katniss knew just as little as I did. Which is next to nothing. We saw a video of Haymitch in the fiftieth games, throwing an axe to the force field. Whatever Katniss did was a desperate play at chance and nothing more.

"She's innocent. Whether in Thirteen or not, she didn't know, or plan."

Snow nods slowly, then smiles, "If you can convince people that what you say is true, in maybe an interview, I might just give her the benefit of the doubt."

_Might... just._

"And... What do you want that to accomplish?" I ask, fingers trembling in my lap.

"Stop the war from starting."

_Stop the war... has it really gotten that far?_

"If I ask for a cease fire, from District Thirteen, or the movement that's been started; as you claim, by Katniss and Haymitch," I suggest, "Will you promise me, do I have your word, that you won't hurt her?"

Snow seems to think it over, mind probably plotting out a way to turn my words against me, "I promise not to hurt her, if they cease fire."

And that's it.** If they cease fire. **Not if I ask. But it's better then nothing.

I nod.

"Alright, I'll try my best," I promise.

Snow smiles wider and I can't help feeling like he's a fat cat I've just fed a delicious mouse to.

I've just made a promise with the devil himself. And I might end up paying my life for it.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

*Vanishes to Opt B*

~KaKaVegeGurl


	31. Option B: Epilogue

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option B**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So I been keeping up with Glee, watching it every Wednesday morning after it plays. This season is almost finished, which kinda makes me sad. I'm not sure what to watch after it, maybe some Star Trek.

My boyf, now fiancé, has been talking of me coming up north fer 6 months, to visit and spend time together. Which means taking off werk and staying at home... TO WRITE! Which definitely sounds good to me.

Gosh, maybe one day I'll actually get paid to write, you think? Then I won't have to werk 40 hours a friggin week. I can just write instead. ^^

So yeah, I hope everyone is staying safe, having a good week, you know I am. Granted I'm busy as hell; but that makes me happy.

Do keep reading and enjoying the story, I'm happy fer all of my avid readers that have been around since the beginning. Uh... what else? Welcome new people! And welcome all of you what... 5000 ppl that DON'T review? I love you too. ^_~

It's really insane to think of how many people hit these chapters up and enjoy my writing, or don't, and don't take time to say anything.

But I enjoy you all just the same. I see the numbers, and that's more then enough.

The reviews just boost my ego through the roof and feed me massive amounts of candy. Which I love and adore, of course.

Honestly though, the reviews are enough on their own, they matter a whole hell of a lot. But the numbers... Those let me know that this fic is bigger then I think it is.

So, I want to thank all of you!

If yer in school right now, having problems, and this cheers you up. If yer going through surgeries and learning about the horrors of life and this helps you through the day. If you have a crappy job like I do, being a number, soldering all day, breathing in bad fumes, flipping burgers, serving annoyed people, cleaning up other people's messes, filing reports, selling coffee or medical devices, or just crashed yer car. Or yer computer just died. Or yer sick at home. Or just found out yer pregnant. (yes I've heard all of these from pm's and e-mails) If that's you, and yer reading this story, whether you review or not. Just enjoy it. I love and adore you.

Every last number.

Because, it's not just a number to me. Yer not just a number when I'm concerned.

I'm looking at every last one of you. And each one, two, three, or seventeen matters. Matters more then anything.

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone; whether you know what that means or not! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's an odd word or expression/term that you find you use often?

**-Last Week:** What's yer favorite color? Mine is Cerulean Blue.

* * *

**Review Response:**

_Non-ymous_

* * *

**Side Notes:**

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do?

Now that I have allowed you to beat me.

Do you think that we could play another game?

Maybe I could win this time?

If you even try to look the other way,

I think that I could kill this time.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

_Does it end?_

_Does this life ever end?_

_Does it matter, how many times I'm stabbed, how many times my skin is pierced, how many beeps fill my ears, letting me know that my heart is still beating? Does that matter at all?_

_How many times do I have to lose consciousness, to not have it return?_

_More then what I have so far, apparently, because that annoying beep, beep, beep, that echos on and on... That's what I hear._

_And I'm thinking. I can think now._

* * *

I open my eyes, sit up, face turning to the doctor next to me. My body, stiff and complaining, strains against the tubes connected to my flesh, but I ignore it.

The Doctor, with his white coat and clipboard, square glasses, old (but healthy), smiles. And then I pull one of the needles from my hand. His smile drops.

"Peeta," he says calmly, "Lay back down now."

"Where's Katniss?" I ask, my voice shaking, eyes darting around the blinding white room.

"She's not here–"

"I didn't ask if she was here," I explain as I throw off the covers of the bed and stand up, nothing covering my body but lines of cotton over my chest and leg wounds from the arena. My sight, halved because of something covering the left eye, blurs momentarily and I reach out to grab the doctor's neck, "Where is she?"

His eyes widen and he gasps for air.

"Where is she!"

"I–" he splutters, "No one knows."

I grab his clipboard from his hands and shove him back into a tray of utensils. I'm looking over the papers, reading as fast as I can, but none of it makes much sense.

"Internal bleeding," I mutter, flipping through pages, "Concussion, head trauma, hair-line fracture. What is this? Is that what happened to me?" Serious words normally mean something bad. Head trauma definitely doesn't sound good.

I move my hand up to touch my forehead.

"Stop!" The Doctor shouts, grabbing my hand, "Don't touch it, you're badly injured. You need to lay down, Peeta," he says, "You've not healed comp–"

My elbow meets his right eye and, as he releases me, I turn around and grab his jacket up by the back of the collar. Then I throw him against the bed I was laying in.

The alarms in the room start blaring. I turn to a tray that was kicked to the wall in the struggle and grab up one of the instruments from it. Something sharp, painful looking, and covered in blood. Most likely mine.

I open the door and walk out of it, but only just as Peacekeepers arrive, guns pointed and armor padding on their bodies.

With no other choice, I drop the instrument and put my hands up in the air.

The front man walks up to me and nods, "Smart move, Peeta. We don't want to hurt you."

I stare into his helmet, unable to see his face, and ask: "Where's Katniss?"

"That doesn't matter to you right now," he says, voice muffled, "What matters is that you go back in there and get dressed."

"Why would I do a thing like that?" I ask, spreading out my arms, "I'm comfortable enough as it is."

The man chuckles and puts his gun down, "I'll take you to Snow. But only if you go in there and get dressed."

This catches my attention and I raise my brow, "Promise me."

"Promise."

With his word, I go back into the room and dress up in the clothes that have apparently been at the foot of my bed this entire time.

It's slow going because of the bandaged wound in my leg, the fake other leg, and the stitches in my chest that have been pulling while I moved around.

A nurse comes in to clean the blood on my left peck away, then he puts a new, clean, soft pad of cotton over it and under my shirt, in case the wound bleeds any more.

The pants I put on are loose, black, and tight at the waist, but perfectly fitted. The shirt is buttoned up, also black, and stretches over my broad torso. I roll up the sleeves to my elbows because otherwise it feels constricting.

The nurse, who's been waiting while I dress, bends down to help tie my shoes, muttering something about possibly pulling my stitches more. He gives me a sad look when he finishes and then walks me from the room.

When I step out of it, my eyes are immediately greeted by Peacekeepers again. Same ones from before, standing outside the door now, waiting for me. And the one that talked before grabs my wrist and slaps a sort of plastic bracelet down on it.

"Nothing important," he says and then takes off his helmet. He's... different then I expected. Skin tanned and almost burned, eyes dark, brown hair, and young. Really young.

"It's just going to stop the security systems from alerting more Peacekeepers of a mobile threat."

Which is probably what happened before.

"This way, Peeta," he says softly, hand touching my back to move me on.

I walk, following them through the hallways until we reach the entrance of the building. I'm taken outside and put in a car with only him, sitting in front of me, gun in arm, staring.

As uncomfortable as the situation is, I lean back and try to relax, "So," I start, trying to get a sort of chemistry going, "What's it like seeing a Tribute from the Games beat up a doctor in the nude and then come streaking out into the halls with only an exacto-knife, ready for a fight?"

He smiles immediately and even lets out a laugh, "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't amusing."

I nod, "It could also be distracting in combat, I guess. Maybe next year I'll just strip everything off and fight that way."

"That hasn't happened already?" he asks between laughs.

"Maybe Katniss could be nude too," I continue, "that's not new in the arena, right? Instead of star-crossed lovers, we'll just be some oddly exotic and adventurous porn."

This really gets him, he's bursting into a fit of laughter, head thrown back, even his gun is shaking out of control. It's nice to know that some people in the Capitol have a good sense of humor and can appreciate mine, even if it's some of the last words I might ever speak.

Finally, he calms down and things go silent once more.

I smile wide at him and he smiles back.

"Well," he says, "Well, well, well, Peeta Mellark. You _are _something."

I raise my brow, "Am I?"

He nods, "If Snow thinks that Katniss is the problem, he's got another thing coming. Doesn't he?"

This comment confuses me more and I sit back, giving him an appraising look, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I think you do," he leans in to explain, "I've always thought that the screen just made you _look _humble. That the calm demeanor, the control, the chemistry you have with people was fake. I thought it was all an act brought on by professionals like your mentor; Haymitch Abernathy. Or Effie Trinket."

_Professionals?_

"I've never really thought of the Hunger Games as... real."

_As real? What did he think they were before?... Fake?_

"But you are something else," His grin broadens and he stretches his hand out, "It's nice to meet you, Peeta Mellark. My name is Fields. Nothing more or less, just Fields."

"Fields of what?" I joke, take his hand and shake it. His action is firm, but not measuring. Not trying to put his balls down. Just a comfortable... Friendly shake.

He smiles wide at my comment and then tilts his head to say softly: "Snow doesn't hear any of this conversation, you know. And I hope he never does, Peeta, for your sake. Because if he finds out about you, he's going to take his eyes off of Katniss. And things will be worse here for you then it already is."

_Takes his eyes off of me?_

_If I'm the real threat, maybe Snow won't care so much about Katniss? Her... and my son, will be safe?_

I nod to Fields, "That's the new plan."

His eyes widen as the car stops and I reach over to open it's door.

"Peeta," he grabs my hand to stop me and stares into my eyes, "I've only just met you, I know. But you need to understand," he pauses for dramatic effect and then says: "He won't just kill you. It won't be _that _fast."

"The only thing he could ever do to hurt me," I explain, "is hurt Katniss. As long as he thinks that I'm more of a threat then that... The better off I'll be."

"Peeta..."

I stare at him, waiting for him to talk.

"Just because I don't think he will... doesn't mean he won't actually _kill _you."

This guy, drama king or not, has me smiling with his concern, "I've been down in that arena twice, killed more people then I've ever planned to and been stabbed just as much. I had to fight for Katniss time and time again, and risk my life to keep her alive. I'm not going to stop this late in the game. Not when she's carrying my baby. Not ever."

Fields lets go of the car door as the expression on his face softens and he lets me out finally.

I leave him in the car and walk forward, stopping to stare up. The building in front of me is large and outclasses anything I've ever seen before.

I thought the Capitol was grand enough, but this really takes the cake. The door itself is large enough to let a whale, or two, through. And when I walk inside of the building... I can't help feeling like an ant.

The Peacekeepers dotting the large open hall before me are so dense that the red flooring beneath their feet is only seen at the front door.

Fields chuckles from behind, startling me because I thought he was staying in the car, "Go on, Peeta."

I look back at him and then make my way forward. My steps, despite the presence of so many other breathing bodies, echo as I walk. Everyone's staring, guns clasped tight but not aimed, helmets covering any amount of personality I could gather from their faces.

"Peeta Mellark."

His arms open wide to greet me and I have to force myself not to lurch back, or attack him. I have to fight my own eyes from glancing around for the closest gun.

I've never been around Snow for more then a few minutes; never been led by him to his office, into his room, just him and me.

One on one.

No Peacekeepers. Which is his first biggest mistake.

"Well," he smiles coldly, "It's nice to see you again, Peeta. I heard about your little wake up call this morning, heard you attacked one of my best doctors."

"Did I?" I ask, feigning surprise.

Snow sneers in response and sips from a warm glass on his desk, steam rising up from it, "That wasn't very nice."

"It was appropriate."

He nods, thinking silently before he tilts his head to the side. "You don't plan to be anymore trouble, do you, Peeta? We can–"

"I plan," I start, standing up from my chair and glaring down at him, "to be more trouble then I'm worth."

Snow glares up at me and stops talking; mumbling really, since I haven't understood a word he's said after I interrupted him.

"Now, now, Peeta," he says, trying to bat it off, "I know you're the more understanding one. Katniss is such a loose cannon; girl on fire, Mockingjay, spokesperson and all of that. Surely you can commit to more reason and responsibility."

"She's a what?" I ask.

"She's," Snow stares up at me and smiles, "She's the Mockingjay. Right? Starting this little rebellion in the districts–"

_Little rebellion?_

I shake my head slowly, "You really have no clue, do you, Snow?"

Snow, eyes widening, closes his mouth again.

"I'm the Mockingjay," I say coldly, staring down at him. "Katniss has always tried to protect me, hasn't she? And you've seen how well I work with Caesar Flickerman; how well I work with everyone. There's people here, all around you, and they'll protect me. You think Katniss is your biggest threat?"

As if he's the cat that's caught the canary, Snow stands and looks me up and down, "Why are you telling me this? You could play it up, pretend, and you'd be safe–"

"I'm always safe," I explain, "Here in the Capitol, or in my own district. There's nothing you can do to hurt me."

He moves to raise his hand but I act quickly, snatch a pen from his desk, and hold it out to him like a dagger of sorts.

"I wouldn't move anymore, President Snow," I say between my teeth, "I may not be particularly skilled, but this pen looks sharp enough."

"Peeta, please be reasonable," he objects, "There are over two hundred Peacekeepers in this building alone. And look at what you're threatening me with, really."

I look down at the small pen and raise a brow, "It'll get the job done, if I need it to. And once I'm out of here, back in District Twelve–"

Snow interrupts me by way of laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he puts his hands to rest at his side, "Oh Peeta, there _is _no District Twelve anymore."

What he's said manages to make me finally drop my arm, "What do you mean?"

He takes the pen from my shaking fingers and sets it down on the desktop, "District Twelve was bombed, just moments after Katniss's little stunt. There's no telling where she is, but no matter, since I have the Mockingjay here in the room with me, she doesn't seem so important anymore. And I know... just what I'm going to do to you."

I back up from him slowly, turn when the door opens, and three Peacekeepers point their guns at me as they walk in.

"Not kill you," Snow comforts me, "But I have other ways of making you completely miserable."

I move to grab the pen again but feel the barrel of one of the guns press against my shoulder.

"When Katniss sees you again," Snow says slowly, walking around the desk to stand in front of me, staring up into my eyes, "There won't be much Mockingjay left in you to lead a rebellion. And with your voice silenced, her own will be as well."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Hope you lot enjoyed it! See you all some time later with Options C and D Epilogues! Until then, be safe, have a good night, and join the numbers. I love you all. ^^ Ooo, and review, would you?

~KaKaVegeGurl


	32. Option C: Epilogue

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option C**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So, good morning everyone!

Who else, besides me, got two copies of this weeks Entertainment Weekly, just fer Katniss?

I have both good and bad news. Not as in two things, one of good and one of bad, but one thing that is both good AND bad.

_I was laid off._

If you've read my a/n's before now, then you know this is both something I was expecting and also something I was hoping fer.

I wasn't laid off because I suck or was bad. Werk just got slow and they needed to put off people. And I was one of those. I am, however, on the list of returning once things pick back up.

I'm not completely laid off until next Friday. So I have some time to prepare.

I might go on unemployment and see how that goes. But the best part about it is TIME TO WRITE!

I might go up north to my fiancé, still, time to write. But we'll see how that goes.

NONE OF THE EVENTS WILL SLOW PRODUCTION OF THIS FIC. You have my werd.

Unless I get hurt physically, this fic will go on at it's continued pace.

Still unsure of what to do with posting four options, but more on that in the interview and Option D's Epilogue, which is not coming out simultaneously with this one. I haven't had time to finish it yet, so probably on tuesday?

If you want more of my info concerning anything, follow me on **Twitter**. Many have already and I will be keeping regular updates there. And most likely soon on my website.

As fer the **INTERVIEW**, you have about a week and a half to submit questions, concerns, requests, ANYTHING you want to know. PM me, message me on Facebook, Tweet me, e-mail me, or put it in yer review.

Can't wait to see you all again on Tuesday with Option D's Epilogue, hope you all are safe and enjoying the week, you know I am! Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi and enjoy.

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's an odd word or expression/term that you find you use often?

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

LittleAsianlazytoologin: "Violence is always the answer... I like it. Sounds like a bit of Steve Leonard, and a dash of Sylar. And every blue? Yeah, I'm there with you, but Cerulean blue has just got to be my fave. Also umm, no Peeta's not psychic. He's just joking around, trying to make light of the situation at hand. XP Thanks fer the questions, they've been added!"

* * *

**Side Notes:**

My story starts the day they said: "She can't be found."

The news so dark, heart stopped, stood silent without a sound.

It's over, she's finished; mother lies with your father and sister too.

Cold-blooded, they suffered, shot down by the outlaws after you.

Sorrow swallows my screams.

I've seen my family fade away, you've taken my whole life.

There's nothing left to say.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

_I thought you stopped thinking when you were dead._

_This is apparently not true. Because I can't shut my mind off._

_I can't stop thinking that I've failed her. Katniss must be dead as well. After all, she shot the force field down, not me. And they had no problem taking __**me **__out._

_Ignorant of the end, oblivious of the outcome, I'm unsure. Should I settle for this?_

_Is it possible for a spirit to wonder, to watch events unfold? And if so, could I maybe get on with it already? I want to know what's happening._

* * *

When I actually open my eyes, physically open them, I'm startled by how completely plain everything is around me. And maybe, just maybe, I'm not dead after all. The first thing I know, besides that, is that I'm alone.

The gentle hum through the bed beneath my body, and all around me, reminds me that I must be in a vehicle still. The hovercraft that captured me hasn't landed or reached it's destination. It's still moving. _How long have I been out? Only minutes? It felt like forever._

I look down to my arm which is bandaged and has only now started to hurt. Then I sit up and survey the area I've been placed in. But there's no one around._ Odd._

No Doctor, no Plutarch. No Katniss.

Which means that they can't have thought I was going to wake up anytime soon.

I pull away the sheets and swing my legs over the side of the bed. One heavier then the other as usual, but I've forgotten about that, and it almost throws my balance off. But what gets me reeling the most is the needle twisting in the vein of my right forearm.

It causes me to lurch in pain and disgust before ripping it out as quickly and harmlessly as possible. The blood squirts forth in a stream of little splatters over my lap and the floor below my bare feet. It doesn't stop bleeding though, so I remove the gauze and wrapping from my other arm, and use it to press firmly against the small hole in my forearm.

Heart pumping in my ears now from the sudden pain, I stand up on unsteady legs and move across the room to the door, walk out into the empty hall, and stop when I hear a voice from behind me.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

I turn and don't even hesitate to run towards him, "Haymitch!"

He smiles wide and puts his hands up, "Woah, woah, slow down there. Don't smother me."

"Haymitch!" I shout, stopping just in front of him and staring into his eyes, "Where is she? Where's Katniss?"

"Come with me," He says, taking my arm and turning me back around to go into the room I came from.

"Haymitch," I breathe in sharp and feel a painful knot form in my chest, "Just tell me."

He looks at me. The guilt, the hurt, both become obvious as his brows narrow together. I can see it so strongly as he struggles to keep his respect enough to look me in the eyes when he shakes his head.

"We just ran out of time," he tries to explain, "Plutarch wanted to get you instead, though. They figured that the Capitol might go for you first."

_The Capitol?_

My stomach clinches as I pull away and back up against the wall, "Haymitch, you promised–"

"I know," he says, moving forward and grabbing my shoulders to stop me from sliding down to the floor, "We'll save her. There's no question about it, don't... don't worry."

I look to his hands and nod finally. That's when the numbness settles in and I start to feel... nothing. Detached.

Haymitch watches closely, pulls me back into the room I came from, and sits me down on the bed.

"You want Katniss safe." I nod, even though I don't think it's a question.

"What are you willing to do to get her back?"

"Anything, Haymitch," I answer immediately as the tears burn my eyes, "You know better then anyone. I'll do anything for her."

He smiles, sad, and takes a seat beside me, "You need to remember now, who the enemy is."

"Snow, of–"

"Not exactly."

I turn in confusion to look at him and he gives me a look that clearly says: I can't say anymore out loud, but whoever we're with right now might just be more important than Snow.

_It's as plain as day._

"I'll fight anyone for her, Haymitch," I say, "She's my life."

"Would you be willing to fight Gale?" He asks, "Someone you've known for years?"

"Yes."

This is odd, because he gives me another look. The chemistry is strong enough between us that I can take this look as: it's not really Gale.

Put the two looks together and the threat is simple; not known, not familiar. _New_.

"Where are we going now?" I ask, "Not back to Twelve?"

"No," he confirms, "We can't go back to Twelve. We're going to Thirteen instead, you'll be safe there. And then we can start concentrating on getting Katniss out safe. I trust you are already thinking on that. That's going to be your primary goal."

"Prim and her mother, though–"

"Were in Twelve."

My mind pings at this, thoughts clicking, "What do you mean 'were'?"

Haymitch turns to me and sighs, "Twelve, well... District Twelve was bombed. Still being bombed, really."

"What!" I stand up and look at him, "We have to go there! We have to save them. I mean... Haymitch, you don't understand."

"I **do **understand, Peeta," he explains, "I also understand that keeping you alive is key. And that we'll access the damage once it's done. But for now we have to take you into safety. Protect you. That's what matters most."

"But... But Prim, and Gale, Katniss's mother. Haymitch!"

"They're all most likely dead already, Peeta. The bombings been going on for hours now, if there was any chance of saving them, it's much too late at this point," He says, staring at me, "It hurts to admit to, I know. But we have to accept it. Going in there now would be risky; if not suicidal."

_Prim, little Prim. Dead already._

"You have to be strong, for Katniss," Haymitch says, "She's _still alive_."

He's right. Of course he is.

I nod and straighten my back, "Alright. There's nothing... nothing we can do. What's done is done."

Haymitch pats his legs and stands up, turning to look down at me, "That's right. And at least we have each other still."

_We do. And that's what matters now._

_Take the damage. Take the cover. Live to fight another day. I can't stop the bombs that have already landed._

_But I can save the girl that's still alive._

"Haymitch..."

His face softens when he sees that the tears I've been fighting to hold back have finally won out, "I know, Peeta."

I stand up and pull him into my arms, "I'm glad I have you here. If there's anyone I trust, it's you."

Haymitch chuckles but returns the hug, squeezing tightly, "I know. And I'll help you get through. I'll help to get Katniss out of there."

We're interrupted by the door opening then and Plutarch Heavensbee starts to close it again, "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll come back later."

Haymitch frowns, "No, that's alright. What do you want?"

Plutarch, despite being thrown off, walks in and looks at me first, "I just came in to say that we've landed. If Mister Peeta Mellark would like to come down and take a look around, stretch his legs, you know. Meet Coin."

"Coin?" I ask, turning to Haymitch, who just gives me one of those looks again.

* * *

_More a threat then Snow, _I thought, _more a threat_. Which I thought meant that it wouldn't be so obvious when I actually met this 'Coin' person. And since Haymitch was trying to point it out, like a highlight in a painting, I guessed I'd be hard to convince of Coin being a bad person.

But it's never been so obvious that someone has hated me, not with Johanna, Snow, not even with Cato; which is really saying something.

The very second that I'm in the same room as Coin, I feel threatened. And I decide to make it blatantly obvious.

She's this woman that walks pin straight, and her hair mirrors that. If I could name another person with such a disgusting impression, it might be Cato. Scum of the earth. Bitter. Causes a sour taste to poison my mouth.

Coin, smiling, with her long grey hair, reaches out to shake my hand. And unlike I would with Snow, I don't take it.

I can't touch this woman.

So I shake my head and start to turn but Haymitch's fingers dig into my elbow to stop me. I look at him and I say, loud and obvious enough, "This is the leader of District Thirteen?"

He nods, jaw set, eyes straining to beg me for cover. To turn back and greet her.

"Is something wrong?" Coin asks, voice curious. But I hear the fury, the hate, the intention to stopper and kill, behind it.

I have never felt more threatened in my life; so I look at her. "How long have you been in power here?"

"Years," she answers.

"You don't know how many?"

She raises a brow, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Coin smiles wide, full of herself, confident, and nods, "Longer then that, young man."

It's my immediate decision to attack her. Not physically. But if I don't beat down this bully now, she will just get worse. I have to play her right.

"My age has nothing to do with my experience and knowledge," I explain, "**Coin**. And personally, I feel like you're going to kill me in my sleep, or maybe if I close my eyes for more then a split second."

The moment the words come from my mouth, Haymitch gasps. Two guns are pointed at me immediately and Coin reels back in anger. I can see it, but she continues to fight it down. Convincing to others, maybe not Haymitch. Definitely not me. I've wounded her. And now she'll be on the defense.

"I haven't hardly said words to you, Peeta Mellark–"

"And I don't want you to say anymore," I interrupt her, "I was in the arena twice. Fought through, and lived. Both times. I know a threat when I see one."

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"I mean that I still don't want you to talk," I explain, "You're worse then Snow. If I side with you, I'll be sleeping with an enemy. An obvious threat. I'll be killing the lion and letting the shark in."

At this, finally, the smile that she's been faking drops. Coin's eyes narrow into slits, her lips thin, and she glares at me. The area around us feels as though it's dropped fifteen degrees.

"The enemy of your enemy is an _ally_," she hisses the words.

It's obvious what she wants. _To use me._ Nothing new, nothing surprising or harmful. But I can't let her know that I know. I have to be convincing.

And that's the best I can do for now. If I work this in my advantage, watch her close, then Katniss can still be safe. And maybe I can get rid of this monster in the process.

So, pretending still, I turn to Haymitch again and give him something obvious to work with. I shrug. Simple, non-threatening, but it speaks volumes.

Haymitch, always the best deceiving partner to work with, nods and gives me a gentle wink.

"Alright," I say, turning back to Coin. The look on her face is convinced, and gratified. She thinks she's fooled me.

"We'll work with you, for now."

And, while I know that she is going to be a struggle all of the way down, she has to be defeated all the same. Two enemies, just me and myself up against them.

Just another Hunger Game to win.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Short, I know. But in all honesty, if I'd drawn it out, really what would've been the point? The next Epilogue isn't too far away. And quite frankly, I want to go and play some Terraria. Love you all, review, ask questions, answer the Question of the week, and I'll see you all Tuesday! Be safe!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	33. Option D: Epilogue

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

**Option D**

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Next week will be the interview, there have been a few scenes suggested, so look forward to that. I'm thinking the Interview will be in two parts, maybe.

Cuz it's friggin huge.

The release date fer the first chapters of **Book 3 is June 14****th**. Maybe earlier depending on how unemployment goes. *wink, wink*

You still have time to put in any questions or suggestions. If yer confused or curious, feel free to ask/request away.

I've had a bomb with you guys, thank you all so much fer the amazing support and the beautiful reviews, my ending note will be after the interview. Look forward to it. Until then, enjoy yer Glee tonight, or tomorrow morning if yer me.

Have a nice steaming cup of yaoi everyone! Enjoy!

~KaKaVegeGurl (A)

* * *

**Question of the Week:**

**-Current Week: **What's an odd word or expression/term that you find you use often?

* * *

**Review Response:**

_To the Anonymous reviewers, time fer love..._

Hannah: "Aww, thank you so very, very much. I hope you enjoy the rest just as much. I'm really looking forward to doing book 3."

* * *

**Side Notes:**

If we can't find a way out of these problems

Then maybe we don't need this

Standing face to face

Enemies at war we build defenses

And secret hiding places

I might need you to hold me tonight

I might need you to say it's alright

I might need you to make the first stand

Cause tonight I'm finding it hard to be your man

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

_Death can't possibly be this easy to come by._

_Not when I have so much more to live for._

_My child, my wife. Katniss._

* * *

"Katniss!"

It's something I say out loud. And it startles me awake.

I don't normally scream awake, like she does, but this time is unusual; unexpected. And it's been enough to scare myself. Let alone the girl in the bed right beside me.

"Peeta?" She asks softly.

I've got my arm out, sitting upright, reaching to the end of the bed. I turn my head to look at her and smile sheepishly. I may have scared us both awake, but it's comforting to know that she's here, and that we _can _be.

I reach my hand out across the space between our beds and take her's, her small, cold fingers lacing between mine.

"I'm sorry," I whisper hoarsely. I feel lousy, apologizing for waking her up, but she turns to meet my gaze and smiles gently.

"You've never done that before. Were you having a nightmare?"

I shake my head, "No. I wasn't having anything–" just as I say this, I stop and sit up to get to her, "Are you alright? The baby–"

"Is fine." She smiles wider, hand moving to her stomach, "We're both fine, Peeta."

Ignoring the needle throbbing in my arm, I reach out to her stomach and cover it in both of my palms, "What did you do in there? I can barely remember... Did you blow up the force field?"

"It was Beetee's plan," she confirms, "I just finished it." Her hands cover mine and she squeezes reassuringly.

"I love you."

She lets out a soft, audible breath, intake, and nods, "I love you."

Finally annoyed, I reach down and pull the needle from my arm, set it down on my own bed, and help Katniss up from hers, "Are you hurting? Anywhere? At all?"

Katniss looks down to her lap and I see the gauze wrapped around a spot up close by her forearm; where the tracker was. "Other then that," she says, "just my back hurts a little."

"What happened to you?" I ask suddenly, "In the Arena, when you left me."

"I followed Finnick and Johanna, but I think they knew I was," she says softly, "I'm not sure how. I was so careful. Finnick went to move ahead and look at things and I was going to follow him when Johanna turned and attacked me. She knocked me out completely and I was so thrown off when she cut into my arm–"

"To get the tracker out," I confirm.

Katniss stops talking and looks down at the gauze again, "Is that what she was doing?"

"Yeah," I explain, "Chaff did it for me as well, only he asked nicely."

"I thought she was trying to kill me," Katniss stretches and lets out a heavy sigh, "My chest is tight, but I'm alright. The last thing I remember was Plutarch–"

I stop her when I take her small frame up into my arms, wrap them around her back and squeeze her close to me.

She laughs weakly, "What are we going to do?"

"Well," I say, pulling back and looking around the room, "We've got each other. At least we have that. But I'm not going back to the Capitol without a fight. After what happened in the arena, they're probably taking us in for execution."

Our eyes meet and Katniss pulls the needle from her own arm before stepping off the bed. The medical gown she's got on reaches nearly her knees and we move together to the door.

I open it and we step out into the hallway of the hovercraft.

We're walking, my arm stretched out behind me, holding her hand. And pass a door as a voice sounds through it

"Don't be stupid. That's the worst thing you could do. Get her killed for sure. As long as _you're _alive, they'll keep _her _alive for bait."

"Haymitch?" Katniss asks and I shove my way into the room.

He looks up to see us and smiles wide, an expression of satisfaction and happiness I've never seen before. "Well, well, well! Looks like the two 'star-crossed lovers' are finally awake."

I frown, glancing around at the faces and then stare at Haymitch, "What's going on here?"

"Relax," he says, standing up, "You're both safe. Katniss, the baby, you."

"The Capitol?" I ask, "Are we headed to see Snow?"

Haymitch still smiles, walking forward and taking my shoulder, "Come on, Peeta, Katniss. We have a lot to talk about. And you two should probably get dressed in some normal clothes. It has to be a bit more drafty then usual, surely you've noticed."

He takes us back to our room and gives us a clean set of clothes to wear, turning his back so that he can explain while we dress.

"We're headed to District Thirteen," he starts as Katniss helps me pull on the plain boxers, she pats my waist and steps into her own underwear.

"The second that the Quell was announced there was a plan to save you both."

"Why didn't we know?" I ask as I pull on my shirt.

I hear Haymitch let out a soft sigh and he says: "We weren't sure if both of you could handle everything all at once. What with Gale's death, and the baby, and the Quell. It was too much. And this movement has been going on for so long. We couldn't afford Katniss overreacting. And we were afraid that if we told you, Peeta, that you'd spill to her. You two are just as much best friends. And I know that secrets are normally shared."

Katniss gives me an obvious, annoyed look, "Our lives were at risk. I think we deserved to know. The baby–"

"Yeah," I agree, "Our **child **was in danger as well, Haymitch. Though I completely understand and, I guess, sympathize with why you held the details back; some foreshadowing or hints would've been nice from time to time. And at the least, appreciated."

"I'm sorry."

Katniss helps me into my pants and once we've finished dressing completely, I walk to Haymitch and put my hand on his shoulder to turn him around, "It's alright, Haymitch. You did what you had to. And we're safe."

"And you saved Chaff," Haymitch says, smiling wide.

"I did."

Katniss gives me a surprised look, "You saved him? The cannon went off. But who–"

"Enobaria. She kind of took us by surprise," I explain, "But she's dead now."

Katniss nods, eyes wide and watering, "That scared me the most, I was worried that you were going to get hurt, or killed."

"We should be in Thirteen very soon," Haymitch says just as the door opens and Plutarch Heavensbee pokes his head in.

"They're up to speed?" He asks.

I raise my brow, "Obviously."

"Have we landed?"

Plutarch nods and opens the door wide, "Yes, they can come out if they want, get all of the muscles moving again."

Katniss takes my hand tight in hers as we leave the hovercraft.

I step out onto the platform first and am greeted by what I guess are District Thirteen's version of the everyday Peacekeeper and a slim woman with long grey hair.

Her eyes narrow when she sees us, but she stretches out her hand in introduction, "Hello, I'm Coin."

I reach out to take it, but stop when I see the odd flash in her eyes, the resentment, the judgement, "I'm Peeta Mellark," I say, dropping my hand to my side without taking hers, "I'm sure you know that already though. And this is my wife, Katniss."

Coin still smiles but her eyes linger on her outstretched hand, and my own, which sits at my side. She finally drops her own, "We here in Thirteen want to welcome you to the cause, Peeta Mellark, Katniss Mellark. We understand your position and want the strength of you both in the rebellion."

"Peeta?" I turn to Katniss and she looks at me, honestly confused, "What's wrong?" she asks, eyes searching mine.

"We'd like to go home," I say, turning back to look at Haymitch, "Now. Whether I have to deal with the Peacekeepers there or not. I want to go back to Twelve."

Haymitch looks astonished and splutters, "What do you mean? Peeta–"

"Go home?" Coin asks sharply, "Like that's a possibility. Have you not been briefed on the subject?"

"Briefed?" I turn back to Coin, "What do you mean?"

Coin, her eyes narrowed to slits, her voice emotionless and cold, stares at me and says: "Twelve was bombed just minutes after Katniss's arrow hit the force field."

"What!" both Katniss and I shout in surprise, taken aback by her words.

Coin nods, "Yes, it's probably still being bombed as we speak."

Katniss turns and grabs my arm, "We have to go, we have to... Prim!" She stops completely and I turn to look at her, "Peeta..." she whispers, "Prim."

"You're right," I say, stomach jumping up in pain, knot forming in my chest, "We'll go, we'll see what we can do."

"You'll do no such thing," Coin starts to argue as we back away, "You'll stay here or you'll get killed out there. It would be suicide to move into Twelve right now. Snow and his men would be on you the second you stepped foot in–"

"We're going!" Katniss says loudly and turns to go inside the hovercraft.

I stay, staring as Coin smiles.

"You're not going anywhere, Katniss," She says, arms folding over her chest and eyes gleaming maliciously, "You're staying here."

Katniss turns, sharp eyebrows pointed, and hand opening to Coin as she smacks her. Sensitive, moody, and her hormones out of balance, she's over reacted; as should be expected with any pregnant woman.

But the men around, the Peacekeepers, react fast, and on instinct only; but not as fast as I do.

Because what could react faster then a boy, a man, who's been on the guard for her since day one? Sworn to do anything and everything to save her?

Now the father of her unborn child, her husband, her other half, if not whole. Her sworn protector.

Who else would've reacted so desperately?

Things don't slow down though, in fact, it's all over faster then I even have time to think. It's a jerk reaction.

I grab her arm, still held out from smacking Coin, and yank her back behind me; almost brutally. And am in turn... riddled with holes. I feel the first three best; gut, shoulder, breast, and the rest are just pressure. One below my right peck, one in my leg, one somewhere else.

The last thing I hear or see is Katniss's voice, shouting for me, in that tone I'd never wanted to hear come from her again. And then my eyes meet Coin's face, glaring cold, and satisfied.

If I die here, I can only hope that Haymitch doesn't leave Katniss defenseless to this new monster. She has to be safe.

Then everything is black. Everything is gone.

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Is he dead? Iuno. LOL, oh come one, please. You rly think I'd kill Peeta? Psh, I want an Option D. I didn't make this shit fer no reason! Look forward to Book 3, Option D, to see what happens next. ^^

Oh and, review please? Love you lots! See you next week!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	34. Final Notes:Deleted Scenes:Sequal Info

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

* * *

By: KaKaVegeGurl

* * *

**Interview**

* * *

**Opening Comment.**

You can skip this, in all honesty. Though I would advise reading it, naturally, it's still alright to skip it.

Contents involve:

Option Explanation.

More possible Options?

Original Story Progression (Hudson).

Scenes that were never in the chapters.

Scenes that were written wrong.

Alternative scenes.

Questions.

Requests.

The Title of Part 3.

The date of release.

One opening scene from Option B, Chapter 1.

If yer still here, enjoy the read. ^^

* * *

**Option Explanation.**

_Option A - Book based for the most part._

TB/BA - By the book until the end, no mutts, Katniss and Peeta kind of end up together. But it's still as true to the book as reasonably possible.

PW/PP - Sticking almost strictly by the book. Gale lives. Peeta finds the pearl. Mags and Chaff die in the arena. Enobaria lives. Peeta is caught by the Capitol.

IS/DP - With Gale being alive, Katniss has chosen him, just like she did in the book. Peeta is saved and they find out he's been hijacked and convinced that Katniss is a mutt.

This Peeta has been fighting for Katniss throughout the books, not just against the Capitol, but also against Gale. They were still separated in the arena and Peeta pretended to be a Career, the fight for Cato near the end went differently. Once back in District 12, the two grew close and Peeta learned how to use a bow and arrow. But Gale was still in the way.

The arena the second time still went as normal as possible, albeit a few things changed, Mags died, Chaff died, Enobaria lived, and Peeta still killed Brutus. He also found the pearl and gave it to Katniss.

And by book 3, we all already know that Katniss doesn't make it any easier for him. Choosing Gale, Katniss is both cold and bitter towards the hijacked Peeta. And his biggest struggle doesn't even start with that.

Because he's more busy holding onto himself, trying to figure things out, and having a hard time convincing himself that Katniss isn't a mutt. The only real difference between Option A and the book is the lack of mutts, and the sex life between Katniss and Peeta in Book 2.

_Option B - Teamed early in Book 1._

TB/BA - By the book until the night before the Hunger Games, when the rule has them working together as a team from the beginning.

PW/PP - Katniss is really pregnant. Gale dies. Mags and Chaff live. Enobaria dies. Peeta is caught by the Capitol.

IS/DP - Pregnant Katniss is in District 13. Peeta, pretending he's the real Mockingjay, is so close to Katniss with real, tangible things (such as his child), he's more difficult to try and hijack.

This Peeta is stronger, in almost every way, then Option A Peeta. When in this world, Katniss and Peeta went into the Arena together as a team. Katniss's feelings for him in Book 1 weren't pretend, Cato tried to rape Katniss, and the struggle against Gale was cut short when he died. Katniss got pregnant and they both went into the arena as planned.

The drastic change in story caused Peeta to kill Brutus early, kill Enobaria near the end, save Chaff, and Mags never died because Peeta and Katniss weren't paired up with Finnick. This means that Peeta never found the pearl, but gave Katniss his locket.

Book 3 will start off with his struggles against being hijacked. Because, is it even possible by now, to do so? And if it isn't, what will Snow do to him if hijacking proves to be too difficult? Or will it be just as easy to hijack him as it was in the original storyline?

And will Katniss act cold to him still, or will things be different? What about Haymitch and Finnick? What characters would die since we saw the drastic change in deaths in Book 2?

_Option C - Alternate Book 2 Ending for Option A._

PW/PP - Option A until the end, when only Peeta is saved by District 13.

IS/DP - Peeta in District 13 and Katniss in the Capitol. Peeta starts to take over the war effort and when they finally get back Katniss, they find a damage done that might just be irreversible.

The Option A Peeta of Book 1 and 2 has been saved by the war effort in District 13. Peeta has already started putting his foot in the door in Book 2. So now, with the start of Book 3, Coin vs Peeta? Because really, out of the two, Peeta's biggest strength over Katniss is his uncanny ability to fit in well, to talk, to handle people. What effect is this going to have on the war, saving Katniss, and Gale?

Gale's still alive. How will the two react to each other? And Peeta's family? What about Katniss's mother and sister? What will things be like with a person that is far more capable and sane then Katniss was in Book 3?

_Option D - Alternate Book 2 Ending for Option B._

PW/PP - Option B until the end, when both Peeta and Katniss are caught by District 13.

IS/DP - Both Katniss and Peeta are in District 13 together, which leads to a more capable Katniss. And a more threatened Coin. Oh, and Gale's dead.

Stronger, more dominating Option B Peeta is saved with Katniss, who's pregnant. To a District 13 that has Coin set up as an immediate threat. But there's something more haunting over them. Gale died in Book 2, before the Games even started. So how many of District 12 is there going to be left without him there to save them?

And with Coin up against Peeta AND Katniss and the not-so-worrying of someone captured by the Capitol, how will this effect the war effort. And then there's also the loss of Peeta's warning: 'dead by morning'.

* * *

**How many options are there? And do you plan to make more?**

Currently, everyone knows of 4. A, D, C, and D.

Clearly, it seems I'm going through the alphabet. So, assuming it goes like that, I have about... I've reached 'M'. Whether I write them or not is to be decided. And if I do, I imagine that some will be on FFdotnet and some will be site exclusive.

* * *

**Original Story Progression.**

The original story that you guys have set up IS under way already. Characters are in the process of being named, plot is folding out, and there's LOTS of notes already. Now that I've got no work in the way, I will begin to put stuff up on my website, and keep you all informed. But so far I can present you with this little treat:

_Stolls, sitting beside me in his usual red sweater, has passed me a juice box. He's poked a straw in already, sipped out it's contents, and expects me to do something with it._

_It's not the first time, but I pull the small pill from my pocket to humor him, a roll of invisible tape, and pour a small portion of cola in the juice box. I tape the pill on the end of the tape, fold the tape in half length-wise, and stick it so that the pill is dangling inside of the small container._

_Stolls, with his lop-sided grin, watches in anticipation as I plant the box under one of the girls skirts at a nearby table._

_Her long blond hair swishes back and forth as she chatters on endlessly to her friends, all raptured. Unknowing of the terror below._

_When the pill's dropped, the sound of the box is deafening and it shoots up from the ground, lifting the back of Jenna Career's short pink skirt, and flashing everyone with her black, lacy panties._

_She stands and screams in embarrassment, and then turns to me knowingly._

_It's no secret that I prank. That I'm good at pranking, I mean. I don't really prank that often at all anymore. But I'm good at it. I have an unnatural skill for placement, timing, and capture. And the look on her face is precious._

_Stolls is laughing and doubling over in pain, clutching his stomach._

_Career, with her sharp eyes, catches the juice box as it comes back down and then she smirks, "That's you're mistake, Teral." And she pours the remaining coke on the zipper of my pants._

_Bullies aren't common in Hearth, so this little joke of hers plays out well. Because apparently the boy that stole her first kiss still wets his pants. Or has a premature ejaculation problem._

"_Only for you," I tell her, string my fingers in her long blond hair and kiss her nose, "Nice panties, Jen."_

_Her face pales as she realizes what I've done. And I walk away with the last laugh, proudly showing of my soiled pants._

"_Hudson Teral!" She's shouting, she's holding her skirt tight to her creamy thighs and I give her a wave off._

I know, crazy right? Parts are already being written. Hudson's a great character to play. I simply adore him. I really can't wait to get this story rolling. ^^

So far, I've gotten a few names out.

Hudson Teral, of course.

Jenna Career won't be in it much, she's sorta minor for now.

Jack, and I don't have his last name yet but he's pretty geeky and amusing.

Stolls doesn't have a first name, but I find that an amusing last name.

And the other character is this very flamboyant gay kid who's fairly tall, about five foot seven, named Stark. And he doesn't have a last name either. But things ARE IN MOTION.

* * *

**Scenes unseen**

* * *

**Option B - Haymitch tries to save Gale...**

The whip connected with Gale's spine again. Murmurs from the crowd raising in horror as more blood spilled from the wounds.

The slab of meat that was the young man's back held no shudder, no act of protest or attempt to dodge the new Head Peacekeeper.

Gale was unconscious, unable to defend, unable to scream. And even if he was, it would've done nothing to dissuade the man behind him. It hadn't before he'd fallen unconscious. What difference would it make now?

Haymitch shoved through the crowd then, struggling to get to the center of it. He stopped in shock when he saw the pool of blood and his eyes watched the whip come down again.

Without a second thought, he shoved through the rest of the way and moved to stop Thread, "What are you doing!"

The Head Peacekeeper glanced at him before raising his arm again.

Haymitch grabbed his wrist to stop him, but Thread threw his arm out and punched the older man in the jaw.

"Are you interfering with this punishment?" He asked coldly.

Haymitch, staggering, growled angrily, "You're going to kill him if you don't stop."

Thread, unamused and unperturbed, turned back and lashed Gale's limp body again. He didn't smile, didn't say anything more and when Haymitch tried to stop him again, Thread shoved him back against the crowd.

"If you persist in interrupting me, it'll be you tied up there next," he threatened.

Haymitch stopped struggling against the people in the square, the ones that had their arms around his, trying to save him from pressing Thread any further.

More time passed and Haymitch had curled up into himself, standing still, taller, stronger, as he watched the pool of blood grow.

Gale, still unmoving, seemed to become... even more limp.

Thread stopped finally, the crowd of people dying down to just a few.

Greasy Sae, watching with her hands balled in to fists, walked to Haymitch as Thread left the square.

And finally, Haymitch stepped forward, took a knife from one of the younger men still there, and cut Gale's body down.

He lifted the heavy form up, blood spilling freely down his shirt, soaking through, and then he walked from the square. He walked to Katniss's home in the Victor's village and knocked on the door.

It opened wide and Prim, with half an apple to her mouth, dropped it in surprise, "Gale!"

Katniss's mother was there immediately, helping Haymitch bring him into the house and set him down so she could inspect his wounds.

It took her all of twenty seconds to pull back and look at him sadly.

Haymitch sighed and bowed his head, "He's dead, isn't he?"

She nodded.

Prim was in tears, but sat silently, staring at the body.

"I thought so," Haymitch said sadly, "I tried to stop them, but there was nothing else I could do."

He couldn't even begin to think of what he'd have to tell Katniss.

* * *

**Option B - Gale's thoughts as Cato attempts to rape Katniss in Book 1...**

This is why I hate watching these things around anyone else.

I'm sitting alone in my room of the house, away from the rest of the family, and eating when the 'end game' fight starts.

Within seconds, Katniss is down and out. This **Cato**, might just kill them both from what I've seen before. He's violent, relentless, cold. And unlike them, he only has to worry about himself.

That proves it's point when Peeta Mellark struggles to get to Katniss and Cato, bless him, stops Peeta cold with a dagger to the throat.

Thresh stalks up behind them and takes up Cato by the head, squeezing so tightly that Cato's howling out in pain. He kicks out at Peeta, who's falling backwards, clutching his side and staring at the blood spilling down the front of his shirt and pants.

Cato, lifting his dagger, slices his blade around Thresh's wrist and manages to get free. The larger man gasps at the blood and angrily storms forward, but Clove comes up from behind him, struggling to get him up in a headlock.

His arms reach back and pull the poor girl up by her jacket, she's screaming through the air as he throws her and her body, legs and waist, whip back as her neck is pierced through by a large, sharp piece of branch. The form goes limp and she hangs there still.

Thresh turns to get Cato now, but he's grabbed up his sword and slices through the larger mans gut. It stops midway, but as Thresh gasps in surprise, Cato pulls the wire he's been holding onto from his belt, wraps it around the remaining waist, and gives the end a sharp tug.

The dark-skinned man crumbles to the ground in two pieces, rather then one. The cannon booms and Cato bends down to lift his sword.

He charges as Peeta finally stands up again and, much, much faster then Cato, bends down to the ground, thrusts his tiny dagger up and slices it over Cato's fingers, catching the blade and force of the larger man.

He's been surprising, I'll admit, and he grabs up Cato in a strong headlock at last. His muscles flex and Cato drops his sword, struggling to get free.

The boy from District 2 runs backwards like a train and slams Peeta into the large rock that shields the camp.

Blood pours from Peeta's mouth as he's slammed back a second time and they slump to the ground.

I let out the breath I'm holding, hands shaking, and take a bite of jerky.

The two men are still for a second before Cato stands up at last, snags his sword and stops Peeta from getting up by slamming the blade down through his leg.

Even I'm shocked at this, and I feel my mouth open in surprise.

He screams in pain, "No."

Katniss, finally standing, grabs her bow and arrow up, starts to string one. But I can see that she's barely keeping it together. She probably can't even see straight. And the chances of her hitting Peeta, rather then Cato, are high enough. Blood spills from her own lips as well, busted open and bruised.

Cato, reaching her with no weapon to protect himself, displays that he doesn't need one by smacking her hard across the mouth.

Katniss, barely able to hold herself up before, crumbles, blood spills from a wound on her forehead and she coughs violently. She's barely getting it together again when he kicks her so hard in the stomach that even Peeta has to have felt it.

Cato grabs her wrist, lifts her, and slams his fist into her face.

"Cato!" Peeta shouts, struggling against the sword that's still buried down in his leg.

Katniss screams in shock as Cato rips down the collar of her shirt, exposing her soft, pale skin underneath.

Cato, snarling at her, presses his bloodied lips to hers and I find myself on my feet.

The anger in me builds as she kicks and thrashes to get free from him.

But she's weakened, barely strong enough to stand, what's that against someone as big and strong as him?

She struggles to cover her chest but he throws her arms out to either side.

Cato, hand shifting under her bra to grab up her left breast, takes her right one in his drooling, blood covered mouth. He squeezes her, nails digging into the soft, fatty tissue, and he leans up again to bite her cheek.

I can't... Can't hardly believe this is happening. I want to turn away, I want to be in there, I want to kill him.

Peeta, the only person that can help her, he has to do something. He can't just watch this disgusting beast touch her like this.

"Peeta!" Katniss's wailing scream breaks through my ears and I'm nodding, "Peeta!"

Sobs wrack her body, tears stream down her dirty, bloody cheeks.

"Peeta!"

My eyes go to him as he rips up the sword from his leg, blood pouring from the wound; but he stands none-the-less.

Peeta, unseen as Cato rips open the button to Katniss's pants and shoves his filthy fingers into her underwear, stumbles towards them leaving a trail of blood thick enough to be a river.

"Stop him, fuck, Peeta. Stop him!" I blink, realizing I've said that out loud.

Cato's hand, which I can't imagine how far it's down in there, shifts violently in her crotch as he pulls back to look down at her.

But she's staring past him as Peeta slams the sword through the back of his skull, coming out of his mouth. Blood pours down, coloring her white breasts red.

Peeta jerks the hilt of the blade and breaks Cato's neck before throwing the man down at their side.

I let out a shuddering sigh as she covers them. And I turn away, unable to watch anymore. I don't care what happens next, Katniss is alive and...

The tears spill from my eyes as I sit back down on the bed and try to control my breathing.

_Thank the fucking stars that Peeta was there to save her._

* * *

**Deleted Scenes**

* * *

**Deleted Scene from Chapter 1; because of silly stupidity running amuck...**

Her eyes melt over my body and she smiles, "You will. Now, I have some exchanges to make. You've got some bread to bake. And both of us have baths to take–"

"Ah," I laugh and hold the door open for her, "You're a poet then?"

"I was rhyming?"

I nodded and kissed her again, "Well..."

* * *

**Deleted Scene #1 from Chapter 6 Option A; because Peeta and Katniss AREN'T MARRIED...**

I slow, breathe out to calm myself, and rest against her. My hair is soaked with sweat, our bodies stick together in ways I've always wanted them to. I wish, so badly, that I could just melt right into her like butter into warm toast. Maybe I already am.

You'd think, after so many times of jacking off on my own, that I would've mastered that feeling. Her tightness around me. But certainly not. I wish I'd had one of these when I was younger.

I'm grinning, breathing deep, and raise my head as her fingers brush through my soaked hair.

She looks, for the first time ever, completely and utterly relaxed and satisfied.

"Feel married?" She asks with a wide smile.

"If this is what married feels like," I comment, "We should do it often and frequently."

She nods, "I could get use to it."

I pull up completely now, our stomachs making a sound like peeling a sticker from a desk, and ask: "How was it for you? Did it hurt?"

* * *

**Deleted Scene #2 from Chapter 6 Option A; because Peeta and Katniss AREN'T MARRIED...**

After that night, Katniss and I remained just as close every night. The practice lasting longer each time, mind-blowing, and I could see the effect it had on my wife. My wife. I grin wide as I come to. Katniss, my wife.

The boot hitting the floor startles me awake completely and I look up to see Katniss at the foot of the bed, getting dressed, "Where are you going?"

* * *

**Deleted Scene #3 from Chapter 6 Option A; because Peeta and Katniss AREN'T MARRIED...**

I sit back against the pillows and close my eyes, "Alright, just be careful."

Katniss bounds over to me on the bed and kisses me softly, "You're not upset?"

I raise my brow, "Why would I be upset? You're my wife. I'm not going to stop you from seeing your friend."

"I love you," she says, smiling wide.

"I love you too," I run my palm down her back and pat her, "Go on now, or you're going to miss him."

* * *

**Deleted Scene from Chapter 8 Option B; because Snow has already came? Duh...**

The two Panem Officials at the door send sparks of fear down my spine and I step back, "Hello?"

The woman stares coldly and says, "This is the home of Katniss Everdeen?" she asks and I nod, "President Snow is here, he would like to see her."

I step more out of the way, "Come right in, Katniss is just out for a walk."

She sneers, "You're Peeta Mellark?"

I bow, "I am."

Then she steps in with the other man, and following behind them is the worm himself. President Snow.

He smiles widely at me and I smile back, which inside is probably more of a grin similar to a man that is going insane.

Snow reaches out his hand to shake and I do, "Peeta, it's been too long."

"It has," I say honestly. He's been alive far too long.

Snow makes his way through the house to meet with Katniss's mother and I take a seat by Haymitch again before asking: "Chess?"

He takes up the offer and we strike up a critical game.

The two officers walking around us stare and poke at everything, ask questions as the minutes tick by.

"Are you over often?"

I nod, "Of course, Katniss is..." My wife? No, I can't say that, no one knows about it, "Katniss is my fiancé. I'm over more often then not." It's honest enough.

"How long has she been out?"

"Katniss went on a walk only a few minutes before you arrived," I say nonchalantly, "She could be back at any time though. It could be ages."

"You didn't go with her?"

At this one I give the man a piercing look, "She's not my child, I don't go following her every move, having to hold her hand."

He sent that look back, "Well, walks are nice. Why did you stay?"

"Because I'm not a needy partner?" I suggest.

He backs off then and the girl takes up the heat, "Does she go on walks often?"

I snag Haymitch's bishop with my knight and don't look away from the board, "Are you two here to try and fish things out of me?"

She glares and I smile, "We're just curious."

"Suspicious," I correct, "You mean, surely. There's no reason to be. Katniss and I are both very honest people. We have nothing to hide."

Her look changes and she raises a brow, "Is that so?"

"It is," I say, but then I steel her with another glare, "It wouldn't be nice if you came her to stab around at a person willing to be honest and polite. Some people don't like it. Especially people that have been known to be able to handle themselves when put in an Arena of similar aged teens with weapons."

* * *

**Deleted Scene from Chapter 9 Option B; because it didn't fit right...**

Awkward.

Katniss frowns as she shifts the top of the dress against her breasts, making them squish together in a way that... _could _be pleasing, if she wasn't dressed so bazaar.

That doesn't stop my body from trying to show how grateful it is, however. It's nice to divulge myself with thoughts of lifting the long, white dress, up past her hips; to wrap her bare legs around my waist, to–_stop_.

With my hands clasped tight over my lap, I smile up at her innocently, and she grins back; unknowing of my darker sided imagination.

Her long hair is done up unnaturally and I stand at last, move to her stiffly. The pull of my heavier leg causes just a slight twinge of annoyance, but I ignore it and take her gentle frame up in my arms.

"You'll smear the lipstick," Katniss protests as I lean in.

"Let it smear," I say as I kiss her. Despite her argument, she opens her mouth willingly and I wrap my tongue around her's, massage them together and then grab her lip between my teeth. A gasp from her throat is swallowed and I move my lips down to her neck, suck eagerly at the freckled flesh.

"Peeta!"

I stop immediately and pull back to see both Haymitch and Katniss's prep team standing in the doorway, staring at us.

Venia, I believe, raises her brow with a shocked expression but then grins, "Well, they need to speed this wedding up."

Haymitch nods and moves to me, taking me by the elbow and dragging me from the room, Katniss protesting from behind us.

"You know," he says as we walk down the stairs, "They need to take pictures of her in the dresses, right?"

I shrug, "I didn't neck her too badly, and besides, they can cover anything with that makeup."

Haymitch stops and looks at me, then begins to wipe my mouth, "You have lipstick all over you, what the hell were you doing?"

"Sucking on her tongue?" I suggest.

He covers his ears and backs away, "Alright, alright, that's enough."

Prim tugs me down to push my ear against her face and she whispers: "Can we make cookies?" She's nearly Katniss's height now but the innocence on her face is so different from her sisters. Sometimes, times like this when I see how much opposite Prim is, it bothers me to think of how quickly Katniss was forced to grow up.

I remember the change back in school, the look on her face after her father died. Then watching her, slowly losing weight, losing color to her cheeks, losing light in her eyes.

Some times, I'm not reminded of it. But every now and then, when I look at Prim from time to time, I can't help but think about those days. When Katniss didn't have any idea how I felt.

I pull back and look at her, then nod. As I follow her into the kitchen Katniss's mother stops me before I enter and takes my cheeks in her hands, wiping my lips with her thumbs, "My goodness, you have lipstick all over you."

I turn and Haymitch throws me a nasty look.

The next night, the very next night, they announce what the twist of the Quarter Quell is.

It's timed ideal, I think, because first we watch Katniss's photo shoot, her in these different wedding dresses. My wife, in styles and colors, unlike the woman I know so well. And I can see it in her face, that longing, that want for freedom.

* * *

**Deleted Scene from Chapter 10 Option B; Both Peeta and Katniss meet Finnick together...**

"Hello Peeta," he opens, "Katniss." And nods to us each in turn.

He's one of the Tributes picked from District 4, and they've dressed him to show off more skin then the day he was born.

Finnick holds a handful of little square-shaped candies and offers: "Want a sugar cube? They're suppose to be for the horses, but who cares?"

I take one up and look at it, Katniss raises a brow at me as I put it in my mouth just in time to see him wink at me suggestively. I fight to spit it out at the rush of sugar that hits my tongue.

"Good?" He asks, offering his hand to Katniss, who passes.

I nod and am about to excuse us when he reaches out to touch to collar of Katniss's outfit.

"What happened to the pretty little pink dresses?"

"I outgrew them," Katniss says with a straight face and Finnick's eyes widen.

"You both are absolutely terrifying," he comments as he steps back.

I nod, "That's the idea," and excuse us from his company. His eyes follow us as we walk by and I have a feeling that he's going to be one of the biggest challenges to bring down in this game. He's unusually young for a Tribute, besides us, and he's healthy. He's also proven to be ruthless. Not up to Cato's standards, but he'll be just as much of a threat. If not more.

* * *

**Deleted Scene from Chapter 13 Option A; Because Peeta manages to hold on in the book...**

I join Katniss in pursuit around the horn of the Cornucopia, chasing after Brutus and Enobaria, when the ground underneath us shudders and starts spinning wildly in a circular motion. I'm immediately off my feet and thrown stomach first to slap down into the water.

The force of it knocks out every bit of air I have in my lungs and, when I breathe back in, I get a mouth and nose full of salt water.

* * *

**Alternate Scene**

* * *

**Alternate Ending of Option B Epilogue; Because I forgot I wrote it...**

The needle is pressed into my arm but I jerk away, feeling it tear painfully inside.

I rip it out and stab it into the Doctor's cheek.

He falls back as one os the Peacekeepers steps forward, presses his gun to my stomach and shoots me.

Things go black.

At they're black, my mind jumps around.

Alive or dead, I can still think. And I can't help rolling things over in my mind.

Is Katniss still alive? If she is, where is she? Is she safe? Is the baby safe?

* * *

**More Questions**

* * *

**What motivates you to write this story?**

Everything, anything. Mostly emotion. But a vast amount of it is just... Curiosity. My readers and reviewers motivate me as well. But I would be lying if I said that was all of it, of course.

I'm a reader just as well as a writer, if not before, and I think that's sort of what really gets me moving on in a story like this. Just like everyone else, I want to see what happens next. Granted, I have a general idea of where it's all headed. But the details are fuzzy.

And seeing a complete and finished product is so entirely satisfying.

I take a lot of time out to read what I've already written, to enjoy the story. Just like everyone else does.

So in order to keep the sanity, and to hold off fer the movies, I write this. It helps. And it makes me a better writer. Win, win.

* * *

**How old are you?**

I'm 22, 23 soon.

* * *

**Do these questions make you feel like your being stalked?**

No, no, of course not. Does people reading my werk make me feel stalked? No. But I HAVE had a person actually notice me in real life... which was weird on very, very many levels.

Story short, she read my fanfics, watched my art on DA, and then friended me on facebook. And then she saw me just randomly walking through the mall in my home city.

I didn't know that you could notice someone just from pics on facebook.

But I just heard: "KAKAVEGEGURL!"

And it scared the shit out of me. I was like... "Uh, what?" Because that really just doesn't happen.

I'm not a celebrity, not even fairly known in the FFdotnet community.

If that all isn't weird enough, this was back when I didn't link my facebook to my website, my account here, or anywhere.

She looked my name up from FictionPress.

So... yeah. Weirdest. Day. Ever.

* * *

**Are you uncomfortable?**

I don't rly get uncomfertable. Intimidated by some people, annoyed at others, in places where one would usually be uncomfortable. But mostly amused, and humbled.

* * *

**How do you come up with such great ideas, and write the characters so well?**

_Great ideas._

My plot details and ideas are based on a few things (mostly an over-active imagination).

And I'm a writer in every sense of the werd. I remember, (oh no, story time) in middle school, one of my teachers saying that most writers often have a notebook and pen around at all times. The kids laughed, but fer some strange reason, out of all of the great wisdom that woman said, that's the only thing I remember her ever saying.

And I didn't completely get it until it started happening to me.

I've often been told that I have too many gears moving. And I seriously do. My mind just werks at a faster pace then I want it to. Often I find myself skipping sentences while talking to someone... and I don't even realize I'm doing it. It's not constant, but if I get off on a tangent, it happens.

But that's a good thing. Because my mind is always werking, always thinking.

I take in movies and songs, and shows, and I listen to podcasts and audiobooks. And everything stays in there, whirling around. I remember the way things are said, phrased, things skipped or ignored. And they dig at me.

Great ideas are often hard to come by, but I have a LOT of them just stored away in a safe in the back of my head. And I never let one go.

I've said to a few readers through review response or pm and e-mail, that I have a tendency to be really good at making things up right on the spot (Character names, plots, storylines, fight scenes, love lines, sex scenes, violent imagery, play werdory, city names, cultures, games, like _everything_). And often that's what I do. But most of the time I have thought of things on the spot, in the middle of werk. And I'm very lucky that my past werk environment was so lenient, I have what... **three notepads? **Full of notes fer Mockingjay. I'm not even kidding.

_Characters._

Okay, the best way I can werk this is by saying that someone else's characters are obviously more difficult to write. But, you have to trust the _real writer _here, and what he/she has provided you with. As I've said before, most fanfic writers make Katniss either too harsh, or too innocent. Which throws me fer a loop! You know her! You've read from her pov fer three FRIGGIN BOOKS! How do you get her so WRONG? And they do, they really do.

As fer Peeta, SuCo hasn't rly given MUCH to werk with. You get the idea that he's this great guy, kinda secretive, who keeps his eyes out fer Katniss. He's smart, but not omg geek!smart. He has a general good idea of the world, and a great head on his shoulders. He's kind. He's gentle.

Katniss's best line about him is when she mentions that she doesn't need Gale's fiery hate and anger. But Peeta, who's the EXACT OPPOSITE.

I like Peeta mostly fer that. Fer being understanding. He's a great guy to know. And unlike the whole... Edward vs Jacob thing. It's more like a one-sided Gale vs Peeta. Because despite that oddball line in the first book about 'her boyfriend', Peeta never shows any anger to Gale. He doesn't go out of his way to annoy Katniss about it and make her feel bad. _Unlike Gale_.

Getting Peeta right is as easy as breathing fer me. All I have to do is think of the perfect guy. Soft, gentle, strong, humble, sweet, caring, loving, adoring, hesitant, careful.

He spent so many years waiting to talk to her because he was nervous. He's not completely self-confident, but he knows when he can do it right.

SuCo gives you the ability to draw like a sponge from her werk, and make these characters again. But it's not always obvious.

I guess the short response is, I make characters best and not OOC by sticking with the facts, drawing from them, and reaching a conclusion. A base. And that's what I werk with.

* * *

**What's your most common typo before you edit?**

'And'. I always have a tendency to write just an 'a'. I never understand that...

* * *

**Can you write in cursive?**

Hardly. Even my own name, when I sign, is only half cursive. I suck at it. Especially with big werds, if it's longer then five letters then all hell breaks loose. An 'r' turns into an 's', an 'l' turns into a 'g'. It gets insane. And so, yeah, not really.

* * *

**What's your most embarrassing moment in life?**

I don't really have a key embarrassing moment. Fortunately. Just small, little things, that are here and then gone. Embarrassing atm, but not strong enough to linger in my mind. I'm sure I've been embarrassed. But I hardly remember any of them.

* * *

**What's your favorite thing said to you by someone so far in a review?**

Ah gods! Which to pick? I have so many!

rawrzez said something at one point about loving the way I make language werk fer me. I definitely liked that. ^^

ramsdra had something that made me blush. Was like "I wish the books were more like this." XP

And Fanpire101 mentioned that it was like a cup of hot soup. That made me smile.

Of course I think LadyKatie0511's post tops most with the three reasons why I'm an author.

There's so many of them.

I just... I just love them all, they're so beautiful and sweet, and inspirational.

* * *

**Other than Hunger Games, what have you read and enjoyed?**

Er, there's so many. T_T Alright let's go through them. Harry Potter, which is amazing. Pendragon, which is doubly amazing. The Ender's Game Saga, which is pretty outstanding. Percy Jackson, which is pretty good. The Uglies, which is just phenomenal.

The Lord of the Rings, of course, it's a classic. The Dresden Files, which is REALLY good. The Dark Tower, which I started to read but have made no progress on fer obvious reasons. (This fanfic)

Other small things I've enjoyed are umm... I read some of Erec Rex, it was pretty cute and amusing. Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging; that's really good. The Catcher and the Rye, of course. Various Star Trek books. XP

Umm, oooh! A really good one that I think anyone reading my werk would love; it's called The Lords of Darkness. Also referred to as 'Tales from the Flat Earth'. It comes in three main parts; Night's Master, Death's Master, and Delusion's Master. Then there's also Delirium's Mistress and Night's Sorceries. And more to come. It's an OUTSTANDING book series by Tanith Lee. And she's kind of amazing stuff. I want to be her one day. *happy sigh*

* * *

**Requested Shower Scene**

When we rise from the bed, and I can't keep my hands off of her, Katniss turns to me smiling and leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Shower?" She suggests, "Together?"

I stand up, run my index finger down her jaw line before pressing my lips to hers, "Alright."

She pulls me, our hands laced together, into the bathroom and starts to strip away what she's wearing.

Her underwear hits the ground and I can't take my eyes from her. When she frees her breasts, I move forward to kiss her.

Once she's in the shower, I take my own time, removing my boxers and then join her. With her back turned to me, I place my hands on her small shoulders, making them disappear in my palms.

I press my lips to the back of her neck and kiss the salt from her skin.

Her hand reaches up and rests over my right one, fingers lace together, and she turns to stare up at me, "I love you."

I smile, lean down and take her lips. Her hair is soaking wet now and I cup her neck, jaw and cheek to pull her face close.

Her soft breasts press to the bottom of my pecks and she steps in to smear our bodies together. I feel her hands, moving over my waist, nails running around to chase up my spine and settle in on my shoulder blades.

My own, sitting down at the protruding waist, slithers back around front to caress the baby bump of her stomach while I bury my tongue in the warm cavern of her mouth.

When the kiss breaks, I take up the bottle of shampoo and pour a generous amount in my palm, massage it against the pads of my fingers until it begins to bubble and then I turn Katniss's back to me to run my fingers through her hair.

Conditioner takes a shorter time and when I lather her body in wash, I rub my hands against every inch of her. Down her slim arms with the sponge, over her perfect, soft breasts, across her shoulders and trailing to her legs. She sighs happily against me as I clean her from head to toe and then she takes the sponge and does the same to me.

It's more of her confidence that turns me on then anything. She doesn't hesitate at my fake leg, or face flush when she sees just how much the act of washing her has excited me.

She, instead, washes everything without a backward glance of shaking fingers, and then she presses a kiss over my heart.

Done, she places the sponge against the side of the tub and turns back to me.

I grab her around the waist and pull her against me, I raise one hand to move her hair from her face and trace the tips of my other hand's fingers down her back, over her curves and around to the front.

My palm settles there and I crumble down to my knees to kiss over her stomach, her fingers weave through my hair and she breathes in sharp when I run my fingers before my mouth, chasing down her stomach and pressing inside of her.

"Peeta."

She's surprised, and that's amusing on it's own.

I stand, lift her against the tiled wall and grab one of her legs up to wrap around my waist. I kiss her neck, suck the flesh, and thrust my fingers up into her as she lets out little sighs of growing excitement; more wet with every lift of my arm or flick of wrist.

She grabs my face in her hands and kisses me, keeping her lips close to mine, she says: "Please."

"Katniss–"

"Now, please," she says and lays her forehead on my collarbone, her hands gripping my shoulders and her voice gasping when I thrust significantly towards her spine.

"Peeta," she whines in surprise.

It _has _been nearly a week.

I smile, grab myself, and position against her entrance. With the water, and our own fluids, it's moist enough to slide in without a wince of hers.

Instead, she sighs happily and stares into my eyes while the hot water from the shower hits against my back.

I grab her hips, pull them higher up and, when I thrust, the moan that is let loose makes my erection twitch. Her eyes start to close and she rests her elbows on my shoulders as she smiles at me.

Satisfied, relieved.

I breathe heavily into her ear, caress her lower back and lift her against me.

As I move inside of her, need and release growing, I don't even notice the water above us turning from hot to cold until I'm spent.

Letting her leg down and pressing my lips to hers, I turn the water off and lift her from the tub. Carry her out to the bed, wrap us up in the comforter, and then her up in my arms.

"I love you," she says again, sighing against my chest and kissing it.

"I adore," I say, "every piece and part of you. Every inch of your skin, every cell in your body, every hair on your head. Each and every one."

She looks up and stares into my eyes.

"I love you with everything I have, Katniss," I continue and run my index finger over her cheek.

"Forever?" She asks, smiling, and I close my eyes.

"Always."

* * *

**The Mockingjay Title.**

Falling in line with the last two: Tips of Brushes, Blades of Arrows and Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs. The third book will be called Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision.

* * *

**Picked Scene of Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision; Option A, Chapter 1.**

"Get close to Peeta Mellark, see what you can get out of him."

I stop, muscles tensing, and the voice whispers out to me like long, stretching, snake fingers caressing the terror inside of me.

"He's such a fool, this will be easy."

Doubt, _this is possible. I have been in love with her since the beginning. It's possible to lie to someone. _Rage, _this is outrageous. How could she keep something like this from me? How could she say these things_. Concern,_**Why **__would she say that? What has she __**done**__?_

_No, no. She's not like that._

"She's not like that!" I scream, hands covering my ears, "I can't, I can't hear this. She's not like that."

The tears burn down my cheeks, my knee gives out and the fake one pulls me down as I lose the balance and control I've been struggling with. I'm curling down into a ball. Flush against the floor and sobbing with my face pressed to the cold, hard ground.

"She's not like that, she's not like that. I swear she's not."

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**Ending Notes:**

June 14th for Book 3, so either follow me on Twitter, follow me on here, or something. I'm positive most of you ALREADY do! But if you haven't, do, do so now.

Oh, and I will be posting a note into this story just in case, with a link to the next part. In two weeks. Can't wait to see you all again.

Now I get to hardcore write to try and get ALL FOUR OUT in two weeks! Woo! Also look forward to werk being done on my website. Ah, the no job life... Is nice... For now.

Review please, if you have a question still that wasn't answered feel free to ask still. I'll answer anything.

Love you all!

~KaKaVegeGurl


	35. Sequel Note

Painted Words, Piercing Paragraphs

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By: KaKaVegeGurl

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**Author's Note:**

You either know it's up, or don't.

The first chapter of** Intricate Strokes, Delicate Precision** is up here:

_(dub dub dub dot fanfiction)_.net/s/7081278/1/

Read on and enjoy! Thank you all fer the support and constant reviews!

~KaKaVegeGurl


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